^«f«®S%i«oiv^ 
:fe^^(i;%K^:^:3S^^ 


LIBRARY 

•    OF  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

OFKT  OK 


Deceived 
Accessions  No.O*  Class  No. 


LETTERS 


FROM    A   FATHER 


TO 


HIS  SONS  -IN  COLLEGE 


BY    SAMUEL   MILLER,   D,  D. 

PROFESSOR  IN  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,  PRINCETON,  NEW  JERSEY. 


UHIVSKSITY 


Qui  studet  optatam  cursu  contingere  met  am, 
Multa  tulit  fecitquc  puer,  sudavit  ct  alsit. 

HOR.  de  Art.  Poet. 
Pudore  et  liberalitate  liberos 

satius  esse  credo,  quam  metu. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION, 

No.  265  CHESTNUT   STREET. 


to  i  if 

Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
A.    W.    MITCHELL,    M.D. 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of 
Pennsylvania. 


Stereotyped  by  S  L  o  T  E    &    MOOKKY,  Philadelphia. 
W  M  .    S .    M  A  R TI E  N ,   Printer. 


DEDICATION. 

To  every  Parent  who  has  a  son  in  college ;  and  to  every 
Son  who  is  placed  in  that  interesting  and  responsible  situa 
tion,  this  volume  is  affectionately  inscribed.  The  former 
may,  perhaps,  learn  from  it  to  estimate  more  justly  his 
power,  though  afar  off,  to  contribute  toward  averting 
the  dangers,  and  promoting  the  improvement,  of  one  un 
speakably  dear  to  him  :  and  the  latter,  if  he  is  not  blind  to 
his  own  honour  and  happiness,  and  reckless  to  all  the  claims 
of  his  friends,  his  Alma  Mater,  his  Country  and  his  God, 
will  certainly  find  in  it  counsels  not  unworthy  of  his  most 
serious  regard. 

(Ui) 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

THE  writer  of  this  volume  has  had  five  sons  trained  and 
graduated  in  the  College  of  New  Jersey.  The  following 
Letters,  not,  indeed,  precisely  in  their  present  form,  but  in 
substance,  were  actually  addressed  to  them.  There  is,  pro 
bably,  not  one  idea  contained  in  this  manual  which  was  not, 
during  their  course  in  that  Institution,  distinctly  communi 
cated  to  them,  either  orally  or  in  writing.  The  influence 
of  these  counsels  on  their  minds,  it  is  believed,  was  not 
wholly  useless.  May  they  prove  still  more  useful  when 
presented  in  this  revised  and  more  public  form ! 

PRINCETON,  March  30,  1843. 

(iv) 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  I. 

PAGE 

Introductory, 7 

LETTER  II. 
Obedience  to  the  Laws, 16 

LETTER  III. 
Manners, 29 

LETTER  IV. 
Morals, 46 

LETTER  V. 
Religion, 55 

LETTER  VI. 
Rebellions, 77 

LETTER  VII. 
Health, 88 

LETTER  VIII. 
Temperance, 100 

LETTER  IX. 
Formation  and  Value  of  Character, 113 

LETTER  X. 

Patriotism, 122 

(v) 


VI  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  XL 

PAGE 

Particular  Studies, 129 

LETTER  XII. 
General  Reading, 145 

LETTER  XIIL 
Attention,  Diligence, 166 

LETTER  XIV. 
Associations,  Friendships, 176 

LETTER  XV. 
Literary  Societies  in  College, 186 

LETTER  XVI. 
Dress, 193 

LETTER  XVII. 
Care  of  the  Student's  Room, 198 

LETTER  XVIII. 
Expenses, 203 

LETTER  XIX. 
Alma  Mater, 211 

LETTER  XX. 
Parents,  219 

LETTER  XXI. 
Vacations, 226 

LETTER  XXII. 
Concluding  Remarks, 233 


LETTERS,    &c 


LETTER  I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — You  have  escaped  from  the  place 
and  the  name  of  school-boys,  and  have  become  mem 
bers  of  a  college  ;  a  college  not  only  venerable  for  its 
age  and  standing,  but  also  famous  as  the  Alma  Mater 
of  a  large  number  of  the  most  eminent  men  that  have 
ever  adorned  our  country.  This  step  will,  no  doubt, 
form  an  important  era  in  your  lives ;  perhaps  more 
important  than  either  you  or  I  now  anticipate.  In 
placing  you  in  this  new  and  responsible  situation,  my 
feelings  have  been  peculiar  and  solemn.  I  have 
looked  back  upon  my  own  college  course,  in  another 
institution,*  with  mingled  emotions.  The  retrospect 
of  its  advantages,  its  pleasing  associations,  both  with 
teachers  and  fellow  students,  and  the  protection  and 
guidance  with  which  I  was  favoured  by  a  merciful 
Providence,  at  that  season  of  youthful  inexperience 
and  peril,  never  fail  to  inspire  gratitude.  But  the 
recollection  of  my  mistakes,  my  failures,  my  incorrect 
estimate  of  the  value  of  some  of  my  prescribed  studies 
and  pursuits,  my  loss  of  precious  opportunities,  and 
my  false  steps,  at  that  critical  period  of  my  life,  is 
always  connected  with  self-reproach.  A  thousand 
times  have  I  said,  "  0,  if  I  had  known  as  much  as  I 
now  know  of  the  value  of  certain  studies,  and  the 

*  Dr.  Miller  was  a  graduate  of  the  University  of  Pennsyl 
vania,  located  in  Philadelphia.— EDITOR. 

(0 


INTRODUCTION. 


wisdom  of  certain  courses  of  conduct  earnestly  recom 
mended  to  me  by  parents  and  friends — how  unspeak 
ably  more  might  I  have  profited  by  the  privileges 
which  I  was  then  permitted  to  enjoy !" 

Can  you  wonder,  then,  my  dear  sons,  that  I  am 
deeply  anxious  for  your  welfare  and  improvement  in 
the  new  situation  in  which  I  have  thought  it  my  duty 
to  place  you?  And  can  you  doubt  that  I  am  ardently 
desirous  of  imparting  to  you  a  portion  of  my  early 
experience?  Some  of  that  experience  was  "dearly 
bought.  If  you  are  willing  and  docile  you  may  receive 
the  advantages  of  it  upon  easier  terms.  The  import 
ance  of  parental  instruction  and  discipline  is  founded 
on  the  fact,  that  every  successive  individual  of  our 
species  comes  into  the  world  ignorant,  feeble  and 
helpless ;  and  that  the  same  process  for  instilling 
knowledge  into  the  mind,  and  for  restraining  the 
passions,  and  correcting  the  evil  propensities  of  our 
nature,  must  be  undergone,  de  novo,  in  every  instance. 
If  you  could  start  with  the  knowledge  and  the  expe 
rience  with  which  the  aged  leave  off,  you  would  stand 
less  in  need  of  instruction  and  exhortation  from 
those  who  have  gone  before  you ;  but  as  this  is  im 
possible,  you  must  be  content  to  acquire  knowledge, 
and  to  gain  the  mastery  over  your  corrupt  propensities, 
in  the  way  appointed  by  a  gracious  God  for  our  fallen 
race. 

Listen,  then,  to  a  father  who  loves  you  most  sin 
cerely  ;  who  will  never  willingly  give  you  a  delusive 
counsel ;  who  prays  that  you  may  be  inspired  with 
heavenly  wisdom ;  and  who  can  have  no  greater 
pleasure  than  to  see  you  pursuing  a  course  adapted  to 
render  you  in  the  highest  degree  useful,  beloved  and 
happy  in  this  world,  and  for  ever  blessed  in  that  more 
important  world  which  is  to  come. 

But  beside  my  natural  affection  for  you,  and  my 
tender  interest  in  your  welfare,  there  are  other  con 
siderations  which  present  a  claim  to  your  attention  to 
the  counsels  contained  in  these  letters.  I  am  the  son, 


INTRODUCTION. 

as  you  know,  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  who  passed 
through  a  long  life  devoted  to  the  acquirement  and 
the  communication  of  the  best  of  all  knowledge,  and 
who  left  me  many  precious  counsels,  the  result  of  his 
experience,  from  which  I  should  have  been  inexcusable 
had  I  not  derived  some  profit.  I  have  myself  now 
lived  more  than  three  score  and  ten  years,  and,  of 
course,  have  had  much  opportunity  of  observing  the 
conduct  and  the  end  of  many  young  men  who  enjoyed 
the  advantages  now  conferred  on  you.  I  have  myself 
passed  through  a  college  course,  and,  consequently, 
know  something  of  the  character,  the  habits,  and  the 
temptations  of  college  life.  I  have  been  a  trustee  of 
the  college  with  which  you  are  connected  between 
thirty  and  forty  years,  and,  in  discharging  the  duties 
of  this  office,  have  become  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  docility,  the  diligence,  and  the  success  of  one  class 
of  students  ;  and  with  the  aberrations,  the  discipline, 
the  degrading  habits,  and  the  ultimate  destruction  of 
another  class.  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  one  who 
had  enjoyed  advantages,  and  passed  through  scenes  of 
this  kind,  should  not  be  in  some  degree  qualified  to 
administer  warning  arid  caution  to  those  who  are  be 
ginning  a  course  so  momentous  to  each  individual  as 
that  on  which  you  have  entered.  And  it  would  be 
supposing  peculiar  perverseness  and  infatuation  on 
your  part,  to  doubt  whether  you  ought  to  regard  with 
some  respect  the  counsels  of  such  a  friend. 

It  has  occurred  to  me,  too,  that  by  embodying  and 
presenting  a  few  paternal  counsels,  I  may,  by  the 
divine  blessing,  not  only  profit  you ;  but  by  offering 
them  to  the  public,  from  the  press,  become  instru 
mental  in  conferring  benefits  on  the  children  of  some 
of  my  beloved  friends  similarly  situated  with  your 
selves  ;  and  possibly  the  children  of  others,  whose 
faces  I  never  saw,  and  never  shall  see  in  the  flesh, 
may  not  be  wholly  unprofited  by  the  counsels  of  an 
old  man,  who  was  once  in  their  situation,  and  whose 
duty  and  happiness  it  is  to  promote  the  welfare  of  in- 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

genuous  youth,  wherever  and  whenever  they  may  be 
placed  within  his  reach. 

I  acknowledge,  also,  I  am  not  without  some  hope 
that  another  benefit  may  result  from  the  preparation 
of  this  manual.  I  am  persuaded  that  some,  at  least, 
of  the  young  men  whose  disorders  in  college  degrade 
themselves,  distress  their  parents,  and  give  trouble  to 
their  teachers,  are  betrayed  into  their  ill  conduct  more 
by  thoughtlessness,  by  inexperience,  and  by  ignorance 
of  the  world,  than  by  any  fixed  purpose  of  insubordi 
nation  or  rebellion.  They  become  delinquents  more 
from  inadvertence  and  juvenile  folly,  than  from  settled 
design ;  and,  of  course,  what  they  chiefly  need  is  to 
have  their  attention  called  to  a  variety  of  subjects, 
connected  with  college  discipline,  and  college  duty,  in 
regard  to  which  their  views  and  habits  are  at  present 
erroneous,  chiefly  because  they  have  never  seriously 
considered  them ;  and  have  never  been  taught  better. 
The  benefit  of  such  young  men  is  not  only  earnestly  to 
be  desired,  but  their  case  is  far  from  being  hopeless. 
There  is  every  prospect  that  discreet  and  well  directed 
efforts  may  make  an  impression  conducive  to  their  per 
manent  good.  If  therefore,  while  I  put  you  on  your 
guard  against  the  company  and  the  influence  of  such 
young  men,  as  long  as  their  present  habits  continue, 
they  should  be  disposed  to  take  the  friendly  hints  here 
dropped,  and  to  "consider  their  ways,"  we  may  all 
have  reason  to  rejoice  together  that  this  labour  of  sin 
cere  good  will  has  not  been  in  vain. 

It  is  common  to  remind  the  young  that  they  occupy 
a  station  in  their  course  peculiarly  critical  and  impor 
tant  ;  that  youth  is  the  seed-time  of  life ;  that  this  is 
the  period  in  which  knowledge  is  to  be  acquired,  habits 
to  be  formed,  and  provision  to  be  made  for  all  coming 
time.  To  young  men  in  college  all  these  suggestions  are 
peculiarly  appropriate.  To  no  point  of  time,  perhaps, 
in  your  whole  course,  can  the  epithets  critical  and  im 
portant  be  so  justly  and  strongly  applied  as  to  that 
which  embraces  your  college  life.  Now  you  are  first 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

brought  into  anything  like  close  contact  with  the  world. 
Now  your  character  is  to  be  tried  in  a  manner  that  it 
has  never  yet  been.  Now  you  are  to  be  left  more  to 
yourselves  than  heretofore.  Now  it  is  to  be  seen 
whether  you.r  love  of  knowledge  is  so  great  as  that  you 
will  study  with  diligence,  when  not  constantly  under 
the  immediate  eyes  of  your  teachers.  Hitherto  you 
have  had  few  associations  but  with  the  sober  and  orderly. 
Now  you  are  to  stand  the  test  of  being  associated  with 
some  of  a  very  different  character.  In  your  college 
course,  habits  in  some  respects  new  are  to  be  formed. 
Various  kinds  of  knowledge,  to  which  you  have  been 
heretofore  strangers,  are  to  be  acquired.  Your  charac 
ters  are  to  receive  a  stamp  which  will,  in  all  probability, 
be  indelible.  It  is  during  the  few  years  which,  if  your 
lives  are  spared,  you  are  expected  to  spend  in  this  in 
stitution,  that  it  is  to  be  seen  whether  you  can  with 
stand  the  blasts  of  corrupt  influence  with  which  every 
college,  known  to  me,  is  more  or  less  infected  ;  whether 
you  will  have  wisdom  given  you  to  appreciate  the  dan 
ger,  and  to  turn  away  from  the  "  instruction  that 
causeth  to  err."  In  short,  the  college  course  of  a  young 
man  who  is  pursuing  an  education,  may  be  said  to  be, 
in  a  sense  which  belongs  to  no  other  period  of  equal 
extent — the  "turning  point"  of  his  life.  Here,  we 
may  almost  say,  everything  for  his  weal  or  woe  will  be 
determined.  No  one  can  predict  what  any  young  man 
is  to  be  till  he  is  tried.  This  may  be  called — more 
than  any  other  which  either  precedes  or  follows  it — the 
trying  period,  on  which  more  depends  than  any  human 
arithmetic  can  calculate. 

Can  you  wonder,  then,  my  dear  sons,  that  your  fa 
ther,  aware  of  this,  and  recollecting  it  with  the  deepest 
interest,  is  anxious  for  your  welfare  ?  Can  you  wonder 
that  he  carries  your  situation  every  day  before  the 
throne  of  grace,  and  implores  for  you  the  protection 
and  guidance  of  your  father's  God  V  Remember  that, 
in  every  period  of  life,  you  need  light  and  strength 
from  on  high,  to  enable  you  to  resist  temptation,  and 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

to  improve  the  advantages  under  which  you  are  placed. 
But  you  need  this  grace  peculiarly  now.  Pray  for  it 
without  ceasing.  Be  upon  your  guard  against  all  the 
dangers  of  which  I  am  about  to  warn  you.  Remember 
that  you  are  now  in  a  situation  in  which  one  false  step 
may  ruin  you ;  in  which  yielding  to  the  influence  of 
one  profligate  companion  may  plunge  you  into  embar 
rassments  and  difficulties  from  which  you  may  never 
be  able  to  extricate  yourselves.  "  Watch  and  pray 
that  you  enter  not  into  temptation."  "  Wherewith 
shall  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way  ?  By  taking  heed 
thereto  according  to  God's  word."  No  one  is  so  likely 
to  escape  the  snares  with  which  he  is  surrounded,  as 
he  who  is  impressed  with  a  deep  sense  of  his  own  weak 
ness,  and  is  continually  seeking  help  from  above. 

Remember  the  purpose  for  which  you  have  been 
placed  in  the  institution  to  which  you  belong  ;  to  learn, 
not  to  teach ;  to  obey,  not  to  govern.  Remember,  too, 
that,  without  your  own  habitual  and  faithful  efforts, 
your  position  in  a  college  will  be  altogether  unavailing. 

Many  parents,  and,  I  fear,  some  youth,  are  apt  to 
imagine  that  there  is  something  in  such  an  institution, 
which,  as  a  matter  of  course,  will  fill  the  minds  of  pu 
pils  with  knowledge,  and  lead  to  rich  improvement. 
They  seem  to  think  that  they  are  like  open  vessels  sent 
to  be  filled,  and  that  instruction  may  be  poured  into 
them  without  any  agency,  or  even  concurrence  of  their 
own.  I  trust  this  mistake  never  found  a  place  in  your 
minds ;  and  that  if  it  ever  has  in  any  measure,  the 
little  experience  you  have  gained  has  completely  ban 
ished  it. 

Your  great  object  is  to  ascend  the  hill  of  literature 
and  science.  Now,  in  gaining  this  ascent,  you  cannot 
be  carried  or  borne  up  on  the  shoulders  of  others.  You 
must  climb  it  yourselves.  You  must  have  guides  in 
your  arduous  enterprise ;  and  these  guides  may  give 
you  many  directions,  and  furnish  you  with  many  arti 
cles  of  apparatus  which  will  facilitate  your  ascent. 
But,  after  all,  the  exertion  by  which  you  climb  must 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

be  your  own  act.  The  mind  can  be  strengthened  only 
by  appropriate  aliment,  and  habitual  exercise.  Gain 
ing  ideas  and  principles  ;  depositing  them  in  the  mind ; 
digesting  them,  and  making  them  our  own ;  and  thus 
strengthening,  enlarging,  and  furnishing  the  intellec 
tual  powers, — all  require  incessant  application  and 
labour  on  our  part.  It  was  mental  exercise  and  toil 
which,  under  God,  enabled  Bacon,  and  iVezifcrn,  and  Mil 
ton  so  much  to  rise  above  the  mass  of  their  fellow  men. 
If  they  had  made  no  personal  efforts,  but  had  depended 
on  being  borne  up,  and  borne  along  by  the  strength 
of  others,  or  by  the  native  force  of  their  own  powers — 
they  would  never  have  reached  the  elevation  which  they 
gained.  You  are  placed  in  circumstances  highly 
favourable  to  your  gaining  knowledge,  and  in  every 
way  improving  your  minds;  but  unless  you  will  con 
sent  to  exert  yourselves,  and  to  labour  diligently  in 
this  pursuit,  you  will  gain  but  little.  In  silver  and 
gold  a  man  may  be  made  rich,  eminently  rich,  by  the 
labour  or  munificence  of  others ;  but  in  intellectual 
furniture  and  strength,  he  can  no  more  be  enriched  by 
the  toil  of  others,  than  his  daily  food  can  be  digested, 
and  made  to  nourish  him,  by  the  mastication  and  the 
stomachs  of  those  around  him. 

In  the  gregarious  mode  of  life  in  which  you  are  now 
placed,  you  will,  no  doubt,  find  both  advantage  and 
hindrance.  In  the  colleges  situated  in  our  large  cities, 
you  know,  the  students  do  not  usually  lodge  in  public 
edifices,  or  board  together  in  public  refectories.  They 
only  come  together  daily  at  their  recitations,  and,  when 
these  are  closed,  return  to  their  respective  places  of 
lodging.  This  was  the  case  in  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania,  in  which  I  was  educated.  When  large 
numbers  of  students  are  placed  in  this  situation  with 
respect  to  each  other,  their  harmonious  action,  and 
especially  their  efficient  co-operation,  are  neither  so 
constant  nor  so  easy,  as  when  they  all  board  and  lodge 
together  in  adjoining  public  edifices.  In  this  latter 
plan  there  are  some  very  material  advantages.  But 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

there  are  some  countervailing  considerations.  When 
students  live  apart,  there  may  be  much  profligacy  and 
mischief  going  on  ;  but  it  is  less  concentrated  and  less 
seen.  When  they  all  live  together,  their  movements 
are  more  prominent  and  noticeable ;  combination  is 
more  easy ;  they  are  more  liable  to  excitement ; 
and  when  excitement  does  spring  up,  it  is  apt  to  be 
more  heated  and  violent.  It  is  said,  that  in  the  Uni 
versity  of  Aberdeen,  in  Scotland,  where  there  are  two 
colleges,  Marischal  and  King's,  the  students  belonging 
to  the  one  all  lodge  and  board  together ;  while  the  stu 
dents  of  the  other  are  distributed  in  different  boarding- 
houses  through  the  city.  In  the  former,  it  is  alleged, 
there  is  a  more  frequent  occurrence  of  obtrusive  noise 
and  disorder ;  in  the  latter,  more  unbridled  vice  and 
profligacy,  which  never  meet  the  public  eye. 

While  I  prefer,  on  the  whole,  having  students  im 
mured  together,  yet  I  wish  you  to  be  aware  that  there 
are  some  perils  connected  with  this  system.  You  will 
find  more  vigilance  and  caution  called  for  in  regard  to 
your  associations,  and  more  need  of  prudence  to  avoid 
being  implicated  in  those  excitements  and  combinations 
which  are  so  apt  to  spring  up  where  large  numbers  of 
human  beings  herd  together.  Kecollect  this.  Be  ever 
on  the  watch  to  guard  against  the  evils,  and  to  avail 
yourselves  of  the  advantages  which  attend  your  posi 
tion: — and  may  He  who  has  all  hearts  and  all  events 
in  his  hands,  grant  you  his  blessing,  and  his  unceasing 
guidance  ! 

If  I  could  admit  the  thought,  my  dear  sons,  that 
you  resembled  those  students  who  are  to  be  found  in 
every  college  that  I  have  ever  seen,  and  some  of  whom, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  belong  to  your  own  classes,  I  should 
not  have  the  heart  to  write  another  sentence.  I  mean 
young  men  who  have  no  real  love  of  knowledge  ;  no  am 
bition  to  be  distinguished  for  either  wisdom  or  virtue  ; 
who  have  no  regard  for  the  peace  and  order  of  society  ; 
no  respect  or  gratitude  for  their  instructors  ;  and  who 
cannot  be  excited  to  either  diligence  or  decency  by 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

even  a  regard  to  the  feelings  of  their  parents :  who 
study  as  little  as  college  discipline  will  allow,  and  who 
have  no  idea  of  enjoying  life,  or  of  manifesting  manli 
ness,  but  in  idleness,  dissipation,  and  those  miserable 
disorders  which  indicate  unprincipled  vulgarity  more 
than  anything  else.  For  such  youth  it  is  in  vain  to 
write  or  to  reason.  Their  course  cannot  fail,  without 
a  miracle,  to  be  disgraceful  to  themselves,  and  agoniz 
ing  to  those  who  love  them.  If  I  thought  that  you 
in  any  degree  partook  of  this  spirit,  I  should  here  lay 
down  my  pen  in  despair.  But,  indulging  the  hope 
that  you  love  knowledge ;  that  you  cherish  a  spirit  of 
generous  ambition  to  be  useful  in  your  day,  and  to 
gratify  your  parents,  I  will  go  on,  and  pour  out  the 
fulness  of  a  heart  glowing  with  regard  to  your  welfare. 
May  God  enable  me  to  write,  and  you  to  read,  in  such 
a  manner  as  may  result  in  our  mutual  joy  ! 


LETTER    II. 


OBEDIENCE   TO  THE  LAWS. 

"  Sanctio  justa,  jubens  honesta,  et  prohibens  contraria." 
BR ACTON  de  Legibus  Anglice. 

"  Sine  lege  est  sine  ratione,  modo,  ordine." 

MY  DEAR  SONS — In  every  college  there  is  a  system 
of  laws,  which  all  who  enter  it  are,  of  course,  bound 
to  obey.  And  they  are  under  this  obligation  anterior 
to  any  formal  engagement  to  that  purpose.  Every  in 
genuous  and  honourable  mind  will  perceive  that  he  who 
offers  himself  as  an  inmate  of  any  family  or  society, 
the  rules  of  which  are  established  and  publicly  known, 
must  be  understood  as  agreeing  to  those  rules,  and  as 
coming  under  a  virtual  stipulation  to  obey  them.  He  who 
comes  in  without  intending  to  do  this,  and  without 
actually  doing  it,  will  be  considered  by  every  honest 
man,  not  merely  as  a  pest  and  a  nuisance,  but  as 
forfeiting  all  title  to  the  character  of  probity  and  hon 
our.  He  who  pleads,  then,  that  he  is  under  no  obli 
gation  to  conform  to  the  known  laws  of  a  college  of 
which  he  is  a  member,  because  he  has  not  formally 
promised  to  do  so,  might  just  as  well  say,  that  he  is  at 
liberty,  consistently  with  moral  honesty,  to  violate  the 
laws  of  the  state,  because  he  has  never  come  under  a 
public  and  formal  engagement  to  obey  them ;  which 
not  one  citizen  in  a  thousand  has  ever  done.  How 
would  such  a  plea  be  regarded  by  a  judge  or  jury  in  a 
case  of  theft,  fraud  or  perjury  ?  We  need  not  wait 
for  an  answer.  He  who  should  make  such  a  plea, 
would,  undoubtedly,  be  considered  as  a  felon  in  spirit, 
if  not  proved  to  be  one  in  act,  and  bo  driven  from  all 
(16) 


OBEDIENCE  TO  TIIE  LAWS.  17 

decent  society.  I  should  certainly  not  be  willing  to 
entrust  my  purse  with  uncounted  money  in  the  hands 
of  a  student  who  should  seriously  advance  such  an 
apology  for  violating  a  college  law. 

Some  years  since,  in  the  college  to  which  it  is  your 
privilege  to  belong,  every  student,  on  his  admission, 
was  required  formally  to  declare,  that  he  had  read  and 
understood  the  laws  of  the  institution ;  and  that  he 
"  solemnly  pledged  his  truth  and  honour  to  obey  them." 
And  yet,  even  then,  there  were  students  who  laid  high 
claims  to  the  character  of  both  truth  and  honour,  who 
deliberately  violated  some  of  the  most  important  of 
those  laws,  and  even  plumed  themselves  on  the  dexte 
rity  and  success  with  which  the  violation  was  accom 
plished.  And  what  do  you  think  their  plea  then  was  ? 
Why,  that  their  engagement  could  not  be  called  a  vol 
untary  one  ;  that  they  had  been  placed  in  the  college 
by  the  authority  of  their  parents  ;  that  the  promise  to 
obey  the  laws  was  an  indispensable  formality,  submis 
sion  to  which  they  could  not  avoid,  without  refusing  to 
enter  the  institution,  and  this  consideration,  according 
to  their  extraordinary  logic,  liberated  them  from  every 
bond  of  obedience  !  With  just  as  much  propriety  might 
a  witness,  summoned  to  give  testimony  in  a  court  of 
justice,  allege  that,  inasmuch  as  the  solemnity  of  taking 
an  oath,  prior  to  giving  his  testimony,  was  a  formality 
forced  upon  him  by  the  law  of  the  land,  without  which 
he  could  not  be  permitted  to  appear  as  a  witness,  he 
was  not  bound  to  speak  the  truth.  Every  honest  man 
would  instinctively  despise  a  youth  who  was  capable  of 
advancing  such  a  plea.  Such  an  one  might  hold  his 
head  high,  and  make  the  most  lofty  pretensions  to 
honourable  principles  and  conduct ;  but,  in  the  estima 
tion  of  all  correct  minds,  he  would  be  regarded  as, 
virtually  if  not  formally,  a  perjured  villain.  The  very 
same  plea  might  a  judge,  or  a  magistrate  of  any  grade, 
make  with  regard  to  his  oath  of  office.  It  is  a  sine  qua 
non  to  his  introduction  to  office.  In  this  sense,  the 
requisition  may  be  called  a  compulsory  one.  He  can- 


18  OBEDIENCE  TO  THE  LAWS. 

not  perform  a  single  official  duty,  or  enjoy  a  single 
official  privilege  or  emolument,  without  it.  But  what 
would  you  think  of  such  an  officer,  if,  after  having  taken 
the  prescribed  oath,  he  were  to  allege,  that  it  was  not 
binding,  because  he  was  obliged  either  to  take  it,  or  lose 
his  office ;  and  to  imagine  that  he  might  break  it 
without  crime  or  dishonour  ?  You  would,  doubtless, 
consider  him  as  a  scoundrel,  quite  as  worthy  of  a  place 
in  the  penitentiary  as  many  of  those  whom  his  sen 
tences  had  sent  thither. 

But  I  will  not  dwell  longer  on  these  degrading  sub 
terfuges,  to  which  none  but  minds  utterly  destitute  of 
all  sound  and  honourable  principle  would  ever  think  of 
resorting. 

I  trust,  my  dear  sons,  you  will  equally  despise  and 
abhor  every  plea,  nay  every  thought,  of  this  kind ; 
and  that  you  will  avoid  the  society  of  every  fellow 
student  who  is  capable  of  avowing  such  a  compound  of 
meanness  and  profligacy.  Every  real  gentleman  who 
enters  even  a  public  hotel,  will  strictly  conform  to  the 
rules  of  the  establishment,  which  he  finds  suspended 
on  the  wall,  or  immediately  quit  the  house.  There  is 
no  medium  in  the  view  of  a  correct  mind.  I  would 
infinitely  rather  find  a  son  of  mine  honestly  confessing 
his  delinquency  in  violating  a  college  law,  and  incur 
ring  the  whole  weight  of  the  penalty,  than  disgracing 
himself  by  pleas  which  evince  radical  obliquity  of 
moral  principle.  A  youth  of  substantially  pure  moral 
sentiments  and  habits  may  be  betrayed  into  an  inad 
vertent  violation  of  a  statute  under  which  he  has  volun 
tarily  placed  himself;  but  the  refined  Jesuitism,  which 
would  explain  away  a  palpable  obligation,  and  justify 
a  virtual  perjury,  is  ripe  for  almost  every  crime  to 
which  an  inducement  is  presented. 

But,  independently  of  all  engagements,  either  ex 
press  or  implied,  to  obey  the  laws  under  which  you  are 
placed,  as  members  of  a  college,  I  would  suggest  some 
considerations  in  favour  of  obedience  to  them,  which  I 
am  sure  you  will  think  weighty,  unless  your  minda  are 


OBEDIENCE  TO   THE   LAWS.  19 

more  deplorably  perverted  by  a  factitious  system  of 
morals,  than  my  affection  for  you  will  allow  me  to  sup 
pose.  When  you  are  tempted  to  violate  the  smallest 
law  of  the  institution,  let  the  following  reflections  occur 
to  your  minds,  and  exert  that  influence  which  I  am 
sure  they  will  on  every  enlightened  and  pure  con 
science. 

1.  By  whom  were  these  laws  made  ?  Not  by  ca 
pricious  or  unreasonable  tyrants.  Not  by  a  body  of 
austere,  gloomy  men,  who  had  forgotten  the  season 
of  their  own  youth,  and  were  desirous  of  abridging  your 
comforts,  and  of  imposing  upon  you  an  unnecessary 
and  painful  yoke.  Not  at  all.  But  by  the  trustees 
of  the  institution  ;  by  a  body  of  enlightened,  reasona 
ble,  conscientious  men,  who  have  been  college  students 
themselves;  and,  of  course,  know  the  feelings,  the 
temptations,  and  the  dangers  of  students : — by  affec 
tionate  and  faithful  parents  who  feel  tenderly  for  the 
welfare  and  happiness  of  youth  ;  and  would  not  lay 
upon  a  young  man  a  single  restraint  which  they  did 
not  know  would  be  for  his  good : — by  men  of  age,  and 
culture,  and  experience,  who  have  not  only  been  young 
themselves,  but  who  have  seen  for  years  the  evils,  nay 
the  almost  certain  ruin,  to  which  students  are  exposed 
by  being  left  to  their  own  inclinations : — by  men 
whose  feelings  are  predominantly  kind  and  benevolent, 
and  who  would  never  vote  for  the  enactment  of  any 
law,  which  had  not  been  found  by  experience  to  be 
indispensable  : — by  men  who  have  deliberately  taken 
an  oath  to  promote  the  best  interests  of  the  institution, 
and  of  the  youth  committed  to  their  care.  Surely 
laws  formed  by  such  men ;  deliberately  reviewed  and 
persisted  in  from  year  to  year ;  and  carefully  modified 
as  circumstances  may  require  ; — ought  to  be  regarded 
with  deep  respect,  and  to  bind  the  heart,  as  well  as 
the  conscience,  of  every  ingenuous  student.  The 
young  man  who,  when  such  laws  are  in  question,  can 
treat  them  with  contempt,  or  even  with  neglect,  has, 
indeed,  little  reason  to  plume  himself  upon  either  the 


20  OBEDIENCE  TO   THE   LAWS. 

soundness  of  his  understanding,  or  the  rectitude  of  his 
moral  feelings. 

2.  Reflect  whether  you  have  any  just  reason  to  find 
fault  with  any  one  of  these  laws.  I  do  not  ask,  whether 
many  disorderly  and  unprincipled  students  would  not 
wish  some  of  them  to  be  repealed  or  altered.  But  is 
there  one  of  them  which  will  not  stand  the  test  of  serious 
and  impartial  examination  ?  Is  there  one  of  them 
unreasonable,  harsh,  or  adapted  to  injure  either  those 
who  are  found  faithfully  obeying  it,  or  any  others  ? 
Is  there  one,  concerning  which  you  can  lay  your  hands 
on  your  hearts,  and  say  that  it  would  be  for  the  benefit 
of  the  college  and  of  the  students  that  it  should  be  re 
pealed  ?  I  am  verily  persuaded  that  the  most  reck 
less  and  licentious  member  of  your  college,  or  of  any 
college — if  he  would  go  over  the  whole  code  of  its  laws 
in  detail,  and  suffer  his  sober  moral  sense  deliberately 
to  sit  in  judgment  upon  each  one,  could  not  find  one 
which  he  would  be  willing  to  say  ought  to  be  expunged. 
Let  him  single  out  from  all  the  prohibited  offences 
against  the  order  of  the  college,  that  one  which  he 
should  judge  to  involve  the  least  degree  of  moral  turpi 
tude,  and  then  ask  himself  what  would  be  the  conse 
quence  if  that  offence  were  habitually  committed  by 
every  student  in  the  house  ?  This  is  the  real  test  to 
which  every  matter  of  the  kind  in  question  ought  to  be 
brought.  He  who  on  any  occasion,  or  in  regard  to  any 
subject,  allows  himself  to  do  a  thing,  or  to  act  upon  a 
principle,  which,  if  it  were  made  the  principle  of  uni 
versal  action,  would  be  productive  of  much  mischief, 
must  be  considered  by  all  sober  thinkers  as  an  offender 
against  the  peace  and  order  of  society.  Will  this 
reasoning  be  deemed  too  refined,  or  too  much  re 
moved  from  the  feelings  of  common  life  to  be  re 
cognized  as  practically  important  by  an  intelligent 
young  man,  who  is  beginning  to  feel  his  obligations  as 
a  patriot  and  a  social  being,  if  not  as  a  Christian  ?  I 
would  fain  hope  not.  There  must  be  something  radi 
cally  rotten  in  the  moral  principles  of  that  youth,  who 
refuses  to  consider  whether  the  course  he  is  pursuing 


OBEDIENCE    TO   THE    LAWS.  21 

is  injurious  or  not  to  the  institution  with  which  he  is 
connected,  or  to  the  best  interests  of  society  at  large ; 
or  who  deliberately  resolves,  at  the  expense  of  such  in 
jury,  to  indulge  his  criminal  passions.  Surely  he  need 
not  be  told,  that  this  is  the  essential  character  of  those 
wretched  invaders  of  the  peace  of  society,  whom  public 
justice  pronounces  unfit  to  go  at  large,  or  even  to  live. 
3.  Reflect  further,  how  much  it  is  your  own  interest 
to  obey  every  jot  and  tittle  of  the  laws  under  which 
you  are  placed.  Need  I  say,  that  the  more  scrupulous 
and  faithful  your  obedience  to  all  the  rules  of  the  in 
stitution,  the  less  of  your  time  will  be  withdrawn  from 
your  studies,  and  wasted  in  plotting  mischief;  in  adopt 
ing  mean  and  lying  contrivances  to  escape  detection  ; 
and  in  that  uneasiness  and  dissipation  of  thought  to 
which  scenes  of  disorder  always  lead  ?  Many  a  de 
luded  youth  has  forfeited  his  scholarship,  and  lost  his 
standing  in  his  class,  by  squandering  those  hours  in 
plans  of  ingenious  disobedience  which  he  would  other 
wise  have  devoted  to  his  studies.  Remember,  too,  that 
the  more  exemplary  your  obedience  to  all  the  laws  of 
the  college,  the  more  you  will  gain  the  esteem  and 
confidence  of  your  instructors,  and  the  more  favour 
able  your  prospect  of  obtaining  that  grade  of  honour 
in  your  class,  to  which  your  talents  and  acquirements 
may  entitle  you.  For  it  must  not  be  forgotten,  that  in 
every  well  regulated  and  faithfully  conducted  college, 
the  moral  conduct  of  every  student,  and  his  obedience 
to  the  laws,  are  necessarily  taken  into  the  account,  in 
estimating  his  title  to  the  honours  dispensed  to  his 
class.  Accordingly,  I  have  known  students  of  the 
finest  talents,  and  of  elevated  attainments,  to  close 
their  collegial  career  in  the  second,  if  not  the  third 
grade  of  literary  rank,  merely  because  they  had  been 
characteristically  regardless  of  some  of  the  laws  of  the 
institution  with  which  they  were  connected ;  and, 
though  often  reproved  for  their  delinquency,  failed  to 
profit  by  the  admonitions  of  their  teachers.  Nor  did 
any  one,  except,  perhaps,  some  partial  and  blinded 


22  OBEDIENCE  TO   THE   LAWS. 

parents,  disapprove  of  the  award.  In  fact,  it  could 
not  have  been  ordered  otherwise,  without  gross  injustice 
to  the  individuals  concerned,  and  no  less  injustice  to 
the  institution  whose  laws  they  had  trampled  under 
feet.  Let  it  also  be  borne  in  mind,  that  he  who  is 
punctual  in  obeying  every  prescribed  law,  is  more  easy 
and  comfortable  in  his  own  mind ;  approaches  his 
teachers  and  his  fellow-students  with  more  fearless  con 
fidence  ;  and  is  affected  with  none  of  that  torturing 
anxiety  which  must  ever,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
invade  the  peace  of  him  who  is  conscious  of  being 
chargeable  with  habitual  violations  of  the  laws  which 
he  is  bound  to  obey.  How  sweet  and  enviable  must 
have  been  the  feelings  of  a  distinguished  young  gen 
tleman  from  the  South,  of  fine  talents  and  scholarship, 
and  of  a  wealthy  family,  whom  I  once  knew,  who,  after 
he  had  been  a  member  of  the  college  in  this  place  for 
several  years,  was  able  to  say,  "  I  am  not  conscious 
of  having  violated  the  smallest  law  of  the  institution 
since  I  have  been  connected  with  it."  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  say,  that  his  career  was  a  pleasant  and 
honourable  one,  and  that  he  left  the  college  enjoying 
the  respect  and  love  of  all  who  knew  him. 

4.  Consider,  further,  how  much  credit  you  will 
reflect  on  your  Alma  Mater  by  a  punctual  and  exem 
plary  conformity  to  her  regulations.  Travellers,  in 
passing  through  Princeton,  have  been,  more  than 
once,  prejudiced  against  our  college,  by  happening  to 
see  several  students  hanging  about  the  tavern  doors ; 
swaggering  with  an  air  of  vulgar  and  insolent  impor 
tance  ;  smoking,  and,  perhaps,  using  profane  language. 
Now,  though  I  conscientiously  believe  that  scenes  of 
this  kind  are  not  so  frequently  exhibited  in  your  col 
lege  as  in  some  others ;  yet  whenever  exhibited,  they 
will  not  fail  to  prejudice  some  individuals  who  may 
happen  to  witness  them.  The  travellers  to  whom  I 
refer — not  pious,  but  worldly-minded  and  gay,  yet 
polished  and  reflecting,  have,  in  some  instances,  to  my 
certain  knowledge,  most  unjustly,  formed  conclusions 


OBEDIENCE   TO   THE   LAWS.  23 

against  the  college  from  this  unfavourable  specimen 
of  its  students ;  and  have  resolved  never  to  send  a  son 
to  it,  lest  he  should  be  brought  up  in  the  midst  of 
vulgarity  and  profaneness. 

Impressions  of  this  kind,  though  most  unjust,  have 
been  more  than  once  made  by  the  appearance  of  a 
single  unfortunate  individual,  and  a  general  character 
of  the  college  and  of  its  inmates  thence  derived,  of  a 
very  unfavourable  kind.  I  need  not  say,  that  a  candid 
and  generous  minded  young  man  would  be  deeply 
pained  at  the  thought  of  inflicting  such  a  wound  on 
the  reputation  of  his  literary  mother ;  and  that  he 
would  consider  any  one  thus  capable  of  sporting  with 
the  character  of  an  individual,  and  much  more  of  an 
important  public  institution,  as  deeply  guilty. 

5.  Reflect,  once  more,  on  the  position  in  which  your 
teachers  are  placed  with  regard  to  the  execution  of  the 
laws.  Perhaps  no  feeling  is  more  apt  to  spring  up  in 
the  minds  of  college  students,  than  that  of  hostility 
to  their  instructors.  They  are  prone  to  consider  the 
Faculty,  as,  of  course,  an  adverse  body,  needlessly 
strict,  arid  even  tyrannical,  and  leagued  against  their 
pleasures.  From  this  feeling,  the  transition  is  easy  to 
the  habit  of  regarding  the  faculty,  in  enforcing  the 
laws,  as  a  body  which  it  is  no  sin  to  oppose,  and  over 
which  it  is  rather  a  meritorious  act  to  gain  a  triumph. 
Can  it  be  necessary  to  employ  reasoning  to  show  that 
such  feelings  and  sentiments  are  highly  absurd  ;  and 
that  those  who  indulge  them  take  the  most  preposterous 
ground  ?  Are  not  the  members  of  college  faculties 
men  of  like  passions  with  others  ?  Is  it  reasonable  to 
accuse  them  of  gratuitous  and  wanton  oppression  ?  Can 
they  be  supposed  to  have  an  interest  in  making  the 
college  to  which  they  belong  unpopular,  with  either 
parents  or  young  men,  and,  of  course,  driving  students 
away  from  it  ?  On  the  contrary,  is  it  not  manifestly 
the  interest  of  every  one,  from  the  president  down  to 
the  youngest  tutor,  to  teach  and  govern  in  such  a  man 
ner  as  to  bo  acceptable  to  all,  and  to  draw  as  many 


24  OBEDIENCE  TO   THE   LAWS. 

students  as  possible  to  the  institution  with  which  he  is 
connected  ?  True,  indeed,  they  have  all  solemnly  sworn 
faithfully  to  execute  the  laws  of  the  institutions,  in 
which  they  are  respectively  placed  as  teachers ;  and  if 
they  are  wise  and  honest  men,  they  are  fully  persuaded, 
that  carrying  all  the  laws  into  execution,  is  the  best 
method  for  securing  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the 
pupils  themselves,  as  well  as  the  best  interest  of  all 
concerned.  Under  these  engagements  and  convictions 
can  they  be  blamed  for  acting  according  to  their  con 
scientious  impressions  of  duty  ?  Would  you  not  secretly 
despise  them  if  they  acted  otherwise  ?  How  unrea 
sonable,  then,  the  prejudice  against  them  for  discharg 
ing  a  duty,  which  all  acknowledge  to  be  solemnly  re 
quired  at  their  hands !  The  truth  is,  instead  of  there 
being  any  temptation  impelling  the  members  of  any 
faculty  to  be  over-rigorous  or  oppressive  in  the  execu 
tion  of  college  laws,  the  temptation  is,  in  almost  all 
cases,  the  other  way.  And  I  am  compelled  to  say, 
that,  after  going  through  a  college  course  myself,  more 
than  fifty  years  ago  ;  and  after  having  been  an  atten 
tive  observer  of  the  character,  course  of  instruction,  and 
discipline  of  different  colleges  for  more  than  forty 
years  ; — I  say,  after  all  this  opportunity  for  observation, 
I  am  constrained  to  assert,  that  I  have  seldom  known 
any  college  faculty  to  err  on  the  side  of  excessive  rigour, 
in  the  execution  of  the  code  of  laws  with  which  they 
were  entrusted ;  but  that  the  mistake  has,  almost  always, 
been  on  the  side  of  undue  laxity,  rather  than  the  re 
verse.  Discipline  has  commonly  been  either  too  tardy 
in  its  pace,  or  marked  with  too  much  lenity  in  its  char 
acter.  Here  has  been  the  fruitful  source  of  a  large 
portion  of  the  evils  which  beset  bands  of  college  stu 
dents.  If  discipline  were  conducted  with  more  strict 
ness  than  it  is,  rather  than  less ;  if  learners  in  our 
public  institutions  were  more  accustomed  to  "bear  the 
yoke  in  their  youth,"  it  were  better  for  them,  and 
better  for  the  institutions  to  which  they  belong. 

I  hope,  my  dear  sons,  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 


OBEDIENCE  TO  THE  LAWS.  25 

say,  that  my  object,  in  all  that  has  been  said,  is  not  to 
make  you  either  mopes  or  slaves.  On  the  contrary,  I 
am  persuaded  that  the  more  perfectly  you  imbibe  the 
spirit,  and  form  the  habits  which  I  have  recommended, 
the  more  happy  ;  the  more  truly  free  and  independent ; 
the  more  manly  and  gentlemanly  in  the  best  sense  of 
those  words  ;  the  more  highly  respectable  you  will  ever 
appear,  in  your  own  eyes,  and  in  the  eyes  of  all  around 
you.  My  acquaintance  with  college  students  has  been 
large,  and  somewhat  intimate  ;  and  my  recollection  en 
ables  me  unequivocally  to  affirm,  that  the  most  accom 
plished  scholars,  the  most  enlarged  and  independent 
thinkers,  the  most  high-minded  and  honourable  indi 
viduals  of  the  whole  number  that  I  have  ever  known, 
were  precisely  those  whose  obedience  to  the  laws  was 
most  perfect ;  who  knew  the  value  of  order  in  conduct 
as  well  as  in  study  ;  who  invariably  treated  their  in 
structors  with  respect,  and  enjoyed  their  entire  confi 
dence  ;  who  never  met  them  but  with  an  erect  and 
assured  countenance  ;  and  whose  whole  character  was 
regarded  by  all  their  associates  as  elevated  and  hon 
ourable.  Such  has  been  my  invariable  experience. 
To  imagine  that  the  contrary  is  apt  to  be  the  case,  is 
a  miserable  delusion.  So  fixed  is  my  persuasion  of  the 
truth  of  this  statement,  that  whenever  I  hear  that  a 
young  man  has  fallen  under  the  frowns  and  the  disci 
pline  of  his  instructors,  I  take  for  granted,  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  that  he  is  a  poor  scholar,  and  that, 
however  he  may  boast  of  his  "  honour,''  or  his  "  inde 
pendence,"  he  has  very  little  of  either  to  spare. 

Do  you  ask  me  what  portions  or  classes  of  the  laws 
I  would  have  you  studiously  to  obey  ?  I  answer,  The 
whole — every  "jot  and  tittle,"  from  the  most  deeply  vital 
to  the  most  trivial  and  minute.  You  as  really  break 
the  laws  of  the  institution  with  which  you  are  connected, 
and  as  really  forfeit  that  "truth  and  honour"  which 
you  have  virtually,  if  not  formally  pledged — by  cutting 
with  your  penknife  the  fences  and  doors,  and  window 
casements  and  seats  of  the  college,  as  by  more  bold  and 
3 


26  OBEDIENCE  TO  THE  LAWS. 

dangerous  acts  of  disorder.  Only  suppose  every  one 
to  indulge  in  such  a  propensity,  and  to  what  a  disgust 
ing  and  miserable  state  would  everything  in  and  about 
the  college  edifices  be  speedily  reduced  !  But  it  is  my 
wish,  with  peculiar  emphasis,  to  guard  you  against  all 
participation  in  those  infractions  of  law,  which  lead  to 
public  disturbance,  and  especially  which  endanger 
health  or  life.  When  I  have  heard  of  students  who 
claimed  to  be  young  "  gentlemen  of  honour,"  exploding 
gunpowder  in  the  college-rooms,  to  the  destruction  of 
property,  and  at  the  most  imminent  risk  of  personal, 
and  perhaps  fatal,  injury  of  some  fellow  student  or 
teacher,  I  have  found  it  difficult  to  avoid  the  impression, 
not  merely  that  the  perpetrator  was  an  unprincipled 
and  dishonoured  youth ;  but  that  he  was  actuated  by 
those  reckless  and  vile  passions  which  distinguish  the 
murderer ;  that  he  was  wholly  unfit  to  occupy  a  place  in 
decent  society  ;  and  that  the  state  prison  was  his  proper 
abode. 

Say  not  that  this  language  is  too  severe.  ^  It  is  the 
language  of  "  truth  and  soberness."  It  is  true,  I 
should  lament  such  an  outrage,  if  not  followed  by  fatal 
effects,  less — much  less  than  where  a  life  had  been  lost. 
But  as  to  the  quo  animo,  it  does  really  appear  to  me, 
that  he  who  can  deliberately  lend  himself  to  such  an 
outrage  as  has  been  referred  to,  deserves  little  if  any 
less  abhorrence  than  many  a  midnight  assassin. 

I  have  only  to  add,  that,  where  this  species  of  outrage 
is  so  planned  and  conducted  (as  has  more  than  once 
occurred  in  different  colleges)  as  to  invade  the  peace  of 
a  private  family,  and  to  fill  with  terror  and  with  anguish, 
and  expose  to  imminent  danger,  delicate  females,  there 
is  a  degree  of  brutality  added  to  crime,  of  which  it  is 
not  easy  to  speak  in  terms  expressive  of  adequate 
abhorrence. 

There  appear  to  be  strange  misapprehensions  of 
moral  principle  in  the  minds  of  many  of  the  members 
of  our  literary  institutions.  I  have  known  young 
-men  who  would  have  shrunk  with  instinctive  abhor- 


OBEDIENCE   TO    THE   LAWS.  2T 

rence  from  stealing  private  property ;  who  would 
have  thought  themselves  permanently  and  deeply 
dishonoured,  by  injuring  the  dwelling,  or  invading 
the  peace  of  a  private  .  family ;  who  could,  at  the 
same  time,  without  any  feeling  of  self-reproach  or 
shame,  take  out  and  bear  off,  without  permission,  a 
book  from  a  public  library,  and  neglect  to  return  it ; 
who  could  break  or  purloin  a  rare  and  valuable  piece 
of  philosophical  apparatus  ;  deface  or  destroy  the  pro 
perty  of  the  college  to  which  they  were  so  much  in- 
indebted,  in  a  manner  which  if  it  were  directed  against 
their  own  property,  they  would  feel  justified  in  prose 
cuting  the  invader  to  the  penitentiary ;  and,  in  short, 
act  as  if,  by  becoming  pupils  in  a  public  institution, 
they  became,  in  a  sort,  joint  partners  in  all  the  property 
of  the  institution,  and  entitled  to  treat  it  as  in  a  mea 
sure  their  own,  or  with  more  reckless  waste  than  they 
would  their  own.  A  more  preposterous  notion  cannot 
be  entertained  by  any  mind.  Recollect,  I  beseech 
you,  that  no  part  of  the  property  of  the  college  is 
yours.  The  whole  of  it  is  vested  in  a  corporation — 
the  board  of  trustees — for  a  great  public  benefit.  They 
permit  you  and  your  fellow  students  to  enter,  and  en 
joy  the  privileges  of  the  institution.  To  prepare  it 
for  your  beneficial  use,  they  have  toiled  and  laboured 
much,  and  gone  to  great  expense,  and  are  daily  incur 
ring  large  expenditures.  So  far  from  their  being 
debtors  to  you,  you  are  deep  debtors  to  them ;  and, 
therefore,  when  you  injure  or  destroy  their  property, 
you  add  the  gross  sin  of  robbery  to  criminal  ingrati 
tude.  You  are  guilty  of  a  public  wrong,  involving,  in 
some  respects,  a  deeper  moral  turpitude  than  that 
which  is  of  a  private  nature. 

For  my  part,  when  I  see  a  young  man  in  college 
disorderly  in  his  habits,  disobedient  to  law,  labouring 
to  deceive,  and  vex,  and  outwit  his  instructors,  and 
injure  the  property  of  the  institution,  I  have  scarcely 
ever  the  least  hope  that  he  will  make  a  decent  or  a 
useful  man.  I  have  carefully  watched  hundreds  of 


28  OBEDIENCE   TO   THE   LAWS. 

this  character,  and  have  rarely  found  my  augury  of 
their  fate  falsified.  Such  young  men  have  generally 
turned  out  disreputable  members  of  society — drunk 
ards,  gamblers,  swindlers,  duelists ;  and  have  been 
either  in  mercy  to  society  cut  off  in  their  course,  and 
consigned  to  an  early  grave;  or  spared  only  to  be 
a  curse  to  the  community,  and  a  disgrace  and  an  an 
guish  to  all  who  took  an  interest  in  their  welfare. 

It  cannot  be  doubted,  that,  on  this  subject,  parents 
are  oftentimes  quite  as  much,  if  not  more  to  blame 
than  their  sons,  who  are  chargeable  with  violating  col 
lege  laws.  Both  parents  and  children,  in  many  cases, 
seem  to  labour  under  the  mistake,  that  students,  and 
the  members  of  the  college  faculty,  by  whom  they  are 
instructed  and  governed,  are  to  be  considered  as  stand 
ing  upon  an  equal  footing,  and  that  their  intercourse 
ought  to  be  that  of  independent  gentlemen  with  each 
other.  To  illustrate  this  fact,  I  would  refer  you  to  a 
case  which  not,  long  since  occurred — not,  I  am  happy 
to  say,  in  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  but  in  one  of 
the  distant  colleges  in  our  land.  Three  young  men 
were  sent  to  the  institution  in  question,  by  their  re 
spective  parents.  In  a  short  time  after  one  of  them 
had  reached  the  college,  he  violated  one  of  the  laws, 
and  was  pointedly  reproved  by  a  professor.  He  im 
mediately  wrote  to  his  father  that  the  professor  had 
insulted  him.  The  father  promptly  answered  thus: — 
"  My  son,  go  and  purchase  for  yourself  the  largest  cane 
in  the  town,  and  break  it  over  the  professor's  head." 
The  other  two  wrote  to  their  father  that  after  having 
tried  the  college  for  a  few  weeks,  they  were  not  pleased 
with  it,  and,  without  any  permission,  had  removed  to 
another  college,  and  had  taken  lodgings  in  the  best 
hotel  in  the  place  !  Of  such  young  men  no  reasona 
ble  person  would  ever  expect  to  hear  any  good.  And 
it  is  certainly  quite  reasonable  to  add,  that  when  such 
young  men  go  to  destruction,  and  disgrace  their  fami 
lies,  by  far  the  largest  amount  of  blame  lies  at  the 
door  of  their  parents. 


LETTER    III. 


MANNERS. 

Non  contemnenda,  tanquam  parva,  sine  quibus  magna  constare 
non  possint.  JEROME. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — It  is  remarked,  by  a  good  writer, 
that  "  the  ancients  began  the  education  of  their  child 
ren  by  forming  their  hearts  and  manners.  They 
taught  them  the  duty  of  men,  and  of  citizens.  We 
teach  them  the  languages  of  the  ancients,  and  leave 
their  morals  and  manners  to  shift  for  themselves." 
Without  pausing  to  examine  either  the  justice,  or  the 
proper  extent  of  this  statement,  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  there  is  a  measure  of  truth  in  it.  It  cannot  be 
doubted  that  the  majority  of  the  youth  of  the  present 
day,  who  have  been  trained  in  literature  and  science, 
manifest  less  modesty,  less  of  the  becoming  spirit  of 
subordination,  less  respect  for  age,  less  of  gentle, 
docile,  filial  deference  for  superiors,  than  were  com 
mon  in  the  days  of  our  fathers.  I  trust  that,  in  say 
ing  this,  I  shall  not  be  set  down  as  a  prejudiced  lau- 
dator  temporis  acti;  as  unreasonably  yielding  to  the 
partiality  of  an  old  man  for  the  days  and  habits  of 
his  youth.  Fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  unless  I  am 
greatly  deceived,  the  intercourse  between  the  profes 
sors  and  tutors  of  our  colleges  and  their  pupils,  was 
considerably  different  from  what  it  now  is.  There  is 
less  of  sovereign,  unquestioned,  parental  authority  on 
the  part  of  the  former ;  and  much  less  of  that  implicit 
obedience  on  the  part  of  the  latter,  and  of  those  out 
ward  testimonials  of  respect  and  reverence  which  were 

3*  (29) 


30  MANNERS. 

then  deemed  indispensable.  In  my  early  days,  in 
several  of  the  most  respectable  and  popular  colleges 
in  our  country,  no  student  ever  entered  the  public 
edifice  in  which  he  either  lodged  or  recited  without 
taking  off  his  hat :  nor  did  he  ever  allow  himself  to 
come  within  a  number  of  feet  of  any  officer  of  the 
college,  either  within  doors  or  in  the  open  air,  without 
uncovering  his  head.  The  approach  of  such  an  officer 
would,  then,  instantly  command  silence  and  perfect 
decorum.  Is  it  so  now  ?  and  is  the  alteration  for  the 
better  or  the  worse  ?  If  there  were  in  the  old  habits 
of  some  of  our  colleges  an  air  of  formal  servility,  is 
there  not,  at  present,  too  often  an  air  of  disrespect 
and  insolent  boorishness  ?  Surely  this  ought  not  to 
be  so.  When  our  country  is  growing  every  day  in 
wealth,  in  literature,  and  certainly  in  some  species  of 
refinement,  our  youth  ought  to  be  growing  in  all  that 
is  calculated  to  distinguish  and  adorn  intellectual  and 
moral  culture,  and  to  exhibit  them  as  worthy  of  the 
advantages  under  which  they  are  placed. 

It  appears  to  me  that  many  young  men  in  college 
labour  under  an  entire  mistake  in  regard  to  the  mo 
tives  which  ought  to  influence  them  in  regulating  their 
manners.  They  seem  to  think  that,  unless  they  have 
a  sincere  personal  respect  for  the  individuals  or  bodies 
with  whom  they  are  called  to  have  intercourse,  they 
may,  without  any  discredit  to  themselves,  indulge  in 
behaviour  which,  in  other  circumstances,  would  be 
liable  to  the  charge  of  rudeness.  But  a  little  reflec 
tion  cannot  fail  of  convincing  any  sober  mind  that 
this  is  a  great  error.  For,  in  the  first  place,  we  are 
bound,  upon  every  principle,  to  treat  with  deference 
and  respect  those  who  are  set  over  us  in  authority,  what 
ever  may  be  our  estimate  of  their  personal  character. 
Their  office  is  worthy  of  respect,  even  if  their  persons 
be  not.  But,  independently  of  this  consideration, 
which,  to  every  thinking  mind,  is  conclusive,  we  are, 
in  the  second  place,  bound  thus  to  conduct  ourselves, 
upon  the  principle  of  self-respect.  When  any  one 


MANNERS.  31 

treats  with  rudeness  those  whom  he  is  bound  officially 
to  obey,  he  may  flatter  himself  that  he  is  displaying 
his  spirit,  and  manifesting  elevation  of  character  ;  but, 
instead  of  this,  he  is  only  displaying  his  own  vulgarity 
and  ignorance  of  the  world,  and  manifesting  that  he 
is  no  gentleman,  whatever  claim  to  that  title  he  may 
imagine  himself  to  possess.  One  of  the  most  perfect 
models  of  good-breeding  that  I  ever  saw  in  my  life, 
was  accustomed  to  overcome  the  incivility  of  the  rude, 
by  the  most  entire  respectfulness  of  manner  on  his 
part.  I  have  known  him  to  disarm  even  brutality 
itself,  by  returning  the  strictest  politeness  to  the  most 
ruffian  insolence. 

Let  me  earnestly  entreat  you,  then,  to  be  careful — 
constantly  and  vigilantly  careful  of  your  manners  to 
all,  but  especially  to  three  classes  of  persons. 

1.  To  all  the  members  of  the  faculty  of  the  college. 
These  gentlemen  are  officially  set  over  you ;  and,  by 
entering  the  college,  you  have  voluntarily  come  under 
a  virtual  engagement  to  submit  to  their  authority,  and 
to  honour  their  persons.  The  supposition  is,  that  they 
are  all  well  qualified  for  their  office,  and  are  personally 
deserving  of  your  highest  respect.  But  whether  this 
be  so  or  not,  there  is  but  one  course  for  you — and  that 
is,  to  conform  to  the  spirit  of  the  laws,  and  ever  to 
treat  them  as  if  they  were  perfectly  worthy  of  venera 
tion,  as  well  as  obedience.  He  who  is  disrespectful  to 
his  teachers,  dishonours  himself  more  than  them.  If, 
therefore,  I  had  no  regard  to  anything  but  your  own 
reputation,  I  would  say,  pay  them  unceasing  and  vigi 
lant  respect.  Treat  them  all — from  the  president 
down  to  the  youngest  tutor — with  scrupulous  decorum 
and  politeness.  Never  accost  them,  or  pass  them, 
whether  in  the  public  edifice,  in  the  campus,  or  in  the 
street,  without  lifting,  or,  at  least,  touching  the  hat. 
Never  speak  to  them,  but  with  the  tone  and  manner 
appropriate  to  one  who  is  addressing  a  superior.  This 
testimonial  of  respect  is  everywhere  dictated  by  the 
most  obvious  sense  of  propriety  j  and  is  really  as  much 


32  MANNERS. 

due  to  yourselves,  as  claiming  to  be  well-bred  young 
gentlemen,  as  it  is  to  the  official  personage  to  whom  it 
is  directed.  Indeed  I  never  allow  myself  to  enter  an 
inhabited  house,  whatever  may  be  the  rank  or  the 
social  position  of  its  inmates,  without  taking  off  my  hat. 
I  should  certainly  expect  them  to  do  so  in  my  own 
house,  and  I  would  not  be  behind  them  in  politeness. 

I  have  often  been  amazed  to  see  young  men,  who 
laid  claim  to  the  title  of  gentlemen,  enter  rooms  in 
which  the  president,  or  some  other  officer  of  college,  was 
seated  or  standing,  and  keep  on  their  hats  until  they 
had  passed,  perhaps,  immediately  by  the  chair  of  such 
officer,  over  the  whole  length  of  the  apartment  to  a 
seat  at  its  remote  end,  and  there  slowly  remove  them ; 
sometimes  after  being  seated  themselves,  and  with  an 
air  as  if  they  scarcely  thought  it  worth  while  to  take 
them  off  even  then.  I  never  see  this  without  confi 
dently  taking  for  granted  that  young  men  who  can  so 
conduct  themselves,  are  grossly  ignorant  of  the  world, 
and,  whatever  else  may  have  belonged  to  their  history, 
have  had  a  very  vulgar  breeding.  They  dishonour 
themselves  far  more  than  they  dishonour  the  objects 
of  this  rudeness. 

I  have  been  sometimes  little  less  disgusted  to  see 
young  men,  the  children  of  respectable  parents,  and 
who  ought  to  have  been  taught  better,  rising,  when 
questioned  at  a  recitation,  or  an  examination,  and  an 
swering  with  an  air  and  manner  becoming  those  who 
felt  themselves  superior  to  their  examiners,  and  who 
wished  to  testify  how  little  respect  they  felt  for  them. 
Such  things  evince  as  much  the  lack  of  good  breeding 
as  of  good  sense  ;  and  instead  of  manifesting  that  man 
liness,  independence,  and  elevation  of  character  which 
are  intended  to  be  displayed,  are  rather  disgusting 
testimonies  of  ignorance  and  boyish  self-consequence. 

Another  practice,  which  I  have  observed  with  pain 
among  students  of  college,  in  their  recitation  rooms, 
and  in  other  similar  situations,  in  the  presence  of  their 
instructors,  is  their  disrespectful  mode  of  sitting.  I 


MANNERS.  33 

mean  sitting  with  their  feet  lifted  up,  on  the  top  of  an 
opposite  bench  or  chair,  and  stretched  out  in  the  ma 
gisterial  manner  of  a  master  among  his  menials,  or  of 
a  boon  companion  lounging  among  his  equals.  No 
truly  well  bred  person  ever  allows  himself  to  sit  in  this 
manner  in  the  presence  of  his  superiors,  or  even  of  his 
equals,  unless  they  are  his  daily  and  hourly  associates. 
Would  not  any  young  man,  who  had  enjoyed  a  training 
above  the  grossly  vulgar,  be  shocked  to  see  an  attitude 
of  this  kind  assumed  by  any  one  in  a  decent  circle  in 
a  parlour  ?  Surely  in  the  presence  of  his  official  supe 
riors  he  ought  to  be  quite  as  particular.  I  lay  claim 
to  no  special  delicacy  or  refinement  in  my  early  train 
ing  ;  but  truth  requires  me  to  say,  that,  such  as  it  was, 
if  I  had  been  ever  seen  to  sit  in  the  presence  of  my 
parents,  or  of  any  decent  company,  as  I  have  often 
seen  members  of  college  sitting  in  the  presence  of  their 
instructors,  I  should  have  met  with  a  prompt  and 
severe  rebuke. 

Imagine  to  yourselves  the  deportment  which  you 
ought  ever  to  exhibit  toward  beloved  and  venerated 
parents,  in  yielding  prompt  obedience  to  all  their  com 
mands,  and  showing  by  every  word,  and  look,  and  tone, 
and  gesture,  that  you  wished  to  treat  them  with  per 
fect  respect ;  picture  to  yourselves  this  deportment, 
and  you  have  the  model  of  that  which  I  earnestly  de 
sire  my  sons  ever  to  display  toward  their  official  in 
structors.  In  giving  this  counsel,  as  I  remarked  in  a 
preceding  letter,  you  cannot  suspect  me  of  a  desire  to 
cultivate  in  my  children  a  spirit  of  servility  ;  on  the 
contrary,  my  earnest  desire  is,  that  they  should  ever 
cultivate  those  manly  and  elevated  sentiments  which 
evince  true  magnanimity  of  spirit,  and  prepare  for  the 
most  honourable  course  oLaction.  And,  truly,  you  were 
never  more  mistaken,  if  you  suppose  that  the  manifesta 
tion  of  perfect  reverence  and  docility  toward  your  in 
structors,  indicates  any  other  than  a  spirit  of  real  dignity 
and  independence.  Here  the  path  of  perfect  obedience 
is  the  only  path  to  perfect  freedom  and  honour. 


34  MANNERS. 

It  is,  perhaps,  as  proper  to  notice  under  this  head,  as 
anywhere  else,  a  piece  of  ill  manners  which  I  have  seen 
displayed  in  a  certain  collegiate  institution,  to  my  great 
disgust  and  annoyance.  I  mean  the  exhibition  of  a 
cigar  in  the  mouth  of  a  student  in  a  public  procession, 
while  he  was  puffing  his  smoke  in  the  face  of  all  who  ap 
proached  or  passed  him.  There  is  such  a  concentra 
tion  of  vulgarity  and  offensiveness  in  this  thing,  that  I 
know  not  how  to  speak  of  it  in  terms  of  adequate 
reprobation.  Few  practices  are  more  frequently  con 
nected  with  rustic  and  disagreeable  manners,  and  offen 
sive  habits  of  various  kinds,  than  the  use  of  tobacco 
in  any  way.  But  to  see  a  student  sporting  a  cigar  in 
a  college  procession,  argues  such  a  total  want  of  de 
corum  and  refinement,  as  ought  never  to  be  seen  in 
civilized  society.  Indeed,  such  an  exhibition  is  an 
outrage  on  good  manners,  that  I  should  be  ashamed 
to  speak  of,  had  I  not  with  my  own  eyes  seen  it — 
not  in  a  public  street  or  campus  merely,  but  in  one  of 
the  entries  of  a  college  edifice,  and  that  on  an  occasion 
on  which  I  was  not  a  little  mortified,  that  so  many 
strangers  should  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  fact 
so  disreputable  to  the  state  of  manners  in  a  literary 
institution. 

Of  the  various  habits  commonly  connected  with  the 
free  use  of  tobacco  one  ought  not  to  pass  unnoticed 
here,  when  speaking  of  good  manners.  I  refer  par 
ticularly  to  the  vulgar  and  disgusting  practice  of  spit 
ting  profusely  on  the  floors  around  the  offender,  and 
running  the  risk  of  bespattering  every  individual  in 
his  neighbourhood.  I  have  known  young  men  in  the 
apartments  of  a  college,  when  I  was  sitting  beside 
them,  smell  so  strongly  of  tobacco  smoke  as  to  be 
scarcely  endurable,  and  at  the  same  time  squirting  their 
tobacco  juice  around  them  in  such  quantities,  and  with 
so  little  delicacy,  that  I  had  no  alternative  but  either 
to  change  my  seat,  or  to  have  my  stomach  turned.  I 
preferred  the  former.  But  how  shameful  for  any  one 


MANNERS.  35 

who  calls  himself  a  gentleman  to  subject  those  "who 
approach  him  to  so  severe  a  tax  ! 

The  truth  is,  when  I  see  a  student  parading  the 
streets  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  manifesting  a 
devoted  attachment  to  the  use  of  tobacco,  I  am  pretty 
much  in  the  habit  of  giving  up  all  hope  of  his  future 
respectability  and  honour.  I  consider  him  as  the  slave 
of  an  indulgence,  which  I  have  seen  betray  so  many 
into  the  most  degrading  intemperance,  and  so  many 
others  into  incurable  ill  health,  that  I  cannot  help  re 
garding  the  devotee  to  this  practice  as  eminently  in 
danger  of  being  lost  to  all  that  is  honourable  and 
good.  But  more  of  this  hereafter. 

2.  Be  attentive  to  your  manners  in  all  your  inter 
course  with  your  fellow  students.  No  one  can  depend 
on  his  deportment  being  such  as  it  ought  to  be  on  special 
occasions,  when  he  meets  his  superiors,  unless  he  is 
careful  to  form  correct  habits  in  this  respect,  in  his  in 
tercourse  with  all.  Hence  wise  counsellors  tell  us,  that 
if  we  desire  to  succeed  in  making  healthful  and  grace 
ful  postures  natural  to  us,  we  must  take  care  to  maintain 
them  in  our  private  apartments,  and  in  our  habitual 
and  every-day  attitudes.  Not  only  on  this  account,  but 
also  for  the  purpose  of  promoting  pleasant  and  profita 
ble  intercourse  with  your  fellow  students,  I  would 
earnestly  exhort  you  to  be  pointedly  attentive  to  your 
manners,  even  amidst  all  the  unceremonious  freedom 
of  daily  and  hourly  communication  with  your  equals. 
It  would,  indeed,  border  on  the  ridiculous,  in  inter 
course  with  fellow  students,  to  adhere  to  all  the  punc 
tilious  forms  of  etiquette,  which  ought  to  be  observed  in 
regard  to  strangers  and  superiors ;  but  still,  even  with 
class-mates  and  room-mates,  there  may  be  unwise  free 
doms,  and  disgusting  coarseness,  which  ought  to  be 
carefully  avoided  by  all  who  would  derive  the  greatest 
advantage  from  the  society  of  their  fellows. 

In  framing  a  general  code  of  manners  for  regulating 
intercourse  with  fellow  students,  the  great  difficulty  is 
to  avoid  such  details  as  would  be  tedious,  and  at  the 


36  MANNERS. 

same  time  to  go  into  particulars  sufficiently  to  furnish 
an  adequate  guide  for  most  practical  occasions.  I  shall 
endeavour  to  pursue  such  a  middle  course  as  to  make 
my  counsels  intelligible,  and  adapted  to  the  occurrences 
of  every  day,  without  being  unduly  minute. 

Remember,  then,  if  you  desire  to  be  regarded  by 
every  fellow  student  with  good  will  and  respect,  to 
avoid  everything  that  is  adapted  to  wound  or  irritate 
feelings.  The  language  of  ridicule,  of  sneer,  of  sar 
casm,  of  harsh  censure,  can  never  be  uttered,  even  to 
your  most  intimate  companion,  without  producing  more 
or  less  alienation.  A  rough  tone,  a  contemptuous  look, 
a  disrespectful  epithet  or  insinuation,  seldom  fails  to 
leave  an  impression,  which,  though  not  openly  resented 
at  the  moment,  is  not  easily  effaced.  I  have  known 
such  impressions  to  last  for  years,  and  him  who  received 
them  to  complain,  that,  though  retaining  them  was  con 
trary  to  his  own  better  judgment,  he  was  unable  to  dis 
miss  them  from  his  mind.  If  a  fellow  student  be  of 
such  a  temper  or  character  that  you  wish  to  avoid  all 
intercourse  with  him,  let  not  your  deportment,  unless 
in  very  extreme  and  extraordinary  cases,  be  that  of 
haughty  contempt,  of  scorn,  or  of  open  reproach,  which 
might  naturally  lead  to  collision  and  violence ;  a  col 
lision  and  violence  always  to  be  deprecated  in  propor 
tion  to  the  evil  character  of  the  individual  desired  to 
be  avoided.  Many  a  youth,'  under  the  impulse  of  a 
generous  and  high-minded  abhorrence  of  vice,  has  in 
considerately  testified  that  abhorrence  in  a  way  which 
has  unnecessarily  drawn  upon  him  the  bitter  resentment 
and  brutal  violence  of  a  ruffian,  which  might  easily  have 
been  avoided  without  any  unfaithfulness  to  the  cause 
of  virtue.  The  aim  of  a  young  person,  to  avoid  giving 
countenance  to  vice,  may  be  much  more  appropriately 
and  happily  gained,  by  a  deportment  of  dignified  re 
serve,  of  quiet  and  silent  but  firm  withdrawment  from 
all  communication. 

But  in  regard  to  those  fellow  students  who  do  not, 
by  either  folly  or  vice,  render  all  comfortable  inter- 


MANNERS.  37 

course  with  them  impracticable,  make  a.  point  of  main 
taining,  toward  them  all,  a  deportment  respectful, 
kind,  and  conciliatory.  You  will,  of  course,  be  more 
intimate  with  some  than  with  others.  Nay,  I  would 
strongly  advise  you  to  be  really  intimate  with  very 
few.  But  for  such  intimacy  I  hope  you  will  not  fail 
to  select  the  best  scholars,  and  the  most  polished,  pure, 
and  honourable  of  the  whole  number ;  those  whose 
talents  and  acquirements  will  render  their  society  pro 
fitable,  and  whose  moral  correctness  will  render  them 
safe  associates.  But  while  you  do  this,  try  to  establish, 
with  all,  the  character  of  perfect  gentlemen,  and  young 
men  of  strict  honour.  Avoid  all  lofty  airs ;  all  repul 
sive  looks,  gestures,  and  language  in  addressing  them. 
Be  ready  to  oblige,  affable  and  accommodating  to 
every  one.  You  will  find  a  number  of  students  in  the 
college,  and  perhaps  some  among  your  classmates, 
whose  parents  are  known  to  be  in  straitened  circum 
stances,  and  who  manifest  by  their  strict  economy, 
their  plain  dress,  and  by  all  their  habits,  that  they  are 
poor.  Let  me  charge  you  never  to  be  guilty  of  the 
weakness  of  undervaluing  such,  merely  on  account;  of 
their  poverty,  and  preferring  to  associate  with  the 
children  of  the  rich,  merely  on  account  of  their  fancied 
superior  rank.  There  is  a  littleness  and  a  folly  in 
such  estimates,  of  which  I  hope  my  children  will  never 
be  guilty.  Respect  and  treat  every  student  according 
to  his  personal  worth,  not  according  to  his  purse. 
Recollect  that,  a  few  years  hence,  the  youth,  the  scan 
tiness  of  whose  finances  kept  him  modest  and  sober- 
minded,  may  be  found  to  have  far  outstripped  in 
learning,  in  wisdom,  in  virtue,  and  true  elevation  in 
society,  the  son  of  the  proudest  nabob,  who,  on  ac 
count  of  his  well-lined  pocket,  proved  a  miserable 
scholar,  and  an  ignoble  profligate. 

3.  I  have  only  to  add,  that  it  is  of  more  importance 

than   is  commonly    supposed,  for  college   students  to 

maintain  becoming  manners    toward    the    inhabitants 

of  the  town  when  called  to  have  intercourse  with  them. 

4 


38  MANNERS. 

The  readiness  of  college  students  to  quarrel  with  the 
townspeople  in  the  midst  of  whom  they  live,  is  an  old 
occurrence,  to  which  there  is  a  continual  tendency, 
and  of  which  the  consequences  are  as  mischievous  as 
they  are  painful.  The  pride  and  folly  of  students  are 
apt  to  take  the  alarm  where  no  insult  or  injury  was 
intended;  and  the  morbid  and  ridiculous  sensibility 
of  townspeople  frequently  leads  them  seriously  to  re 
sent  that  which  ought  to  have  been  overlooked  as  an 
effusion  of  childish  weakness.  In  how  many  instances 
has  this  miserable  folly  led  to  conflicts  and  violence,  of 
which  all  parties  had  reason  to  be  ashamed  ! 

My  desire,  my  dear  sons,  and  my  earnest  advice  is, 
that  in  moving  about  through  the  village  in  which  your 
college  is  placed,  and  in  all  your  occasional  intercourse 
with  its  inhabitants,  you  manifest  all  the  decorum  and 
delicacy  of  young  gentlemen,  who  have  too  much  self- 
respect  to  violate  the  feelings  of  others  ;  and  too  much 
regard  to  what  is  due  to  every  fellow-creature  to  allow 
of  your  indulging  caprice,  or  selfishness,  or  ill-humour, 
at  their  expense.  When  you  pass  either  boys  or 
adults  in  the  street,  let  no  indication  of  either  con 
tempt  or  hostile  feeling  escape  you.  If  any  feeling 
of  that  kind  is  manifested  on  their  part,  do  not  permit 
yourselves,  in  ordinary  circumstances,  to  understand 
or  to  notice  it.  Instead  of  its  being  manly  to  resent, 
or  to  chastise  the  petty  insolence  of  such  people,  it  is 
rather  the  part  of  wayward  children,  who,  by  such 
conduct,  expose  their  own  weakness  and  ignorance  of 
the  world,  rather  than  the  ill  conduct  of  others.  I 
have  never  known  a  fracas  to  occur,  as  it  is  commonly 
expressed,  between  college  students  and  town-boys, 
however  ill  the  latter  may  have  behaved,  without  find 
ing  occasion  to  throw  nine-tenths  of  the  blame  on  the 
former.  Young  men  of  cultivated  minds  and  polished 
habits  ought  to  have  too  much  discernment,  and  too 
much  consideration,  to  plunge  headlong  into  a  conflict 
from  which  neither  credit  nor  profit  can  possibly  be 
derived;  from  which,  even  if  they  are  victorious, 


MANNERS.  39 

nothing  but  disgrace  can  result.  What  though  town- 
boys  adopt  the  opinion,  that  the  students  of  college 
are  unwilling  to  fight  with  them  ?  What  though  they 
think  and  say,  that  they  are  either  too  proud  or  too 
cowardly  to  enter  the  lists  with  them  ?  What  harm 
can  such  imputations  do  you  ?  Is  it  not  better  to  bear 
them  in  silence,  when  it  is  evident  that  your  character 
cannot  be  materially  affected  by  them,  than  to  engage 
in  a  contest  of  fisticuffs  with  those  who  are  reckless  of 
consequences  ;  to  be  rolled  in  the  dust ;  to  have  your 
garments  torn  from  your  backs ;  and  to  retire  from 
the  contest  with  black  eyes,  and  bloody  noses,  and 
perhaps  the  loss  of  limb,  or  even  life  to  some ;  and 
after  all,  with  the  miserable  consolation  that  you  have 
finally  gained  a  victory,  from  which  no  honour  can  pos 
sibly  be  derived,  but,  on  the  contrary,  it  may  be,  many 
a  painful  memorial  lasting  as  life  ? 

If  you  desire  wholly  to  avoid  such  dishonourable 
conflicts,  you  must  carefully  avoid  everything  which 
can  possibly  lead  to  them.  "  The  prudent  man,"  says 
Solomon,  "  foreseeth  the  evil  and  hideth  himself,  but 
the  simple  pass  on  and  are  punished."  A  very  small 
amount  of  discretion  will  be  sufficient  to  put  you  on 
your  guard  against  all  those  modes  of  treating  the 
people  of  the  town,  whether  young  or  old,  which  will 
be  apt  to  draw  upon  you  their  dislike,  or  excite  them 
to  particular  acts  of  personal  disrespect  or  violence. 
Whether  you  enter  the  store  of  the  merchant,  the  shop 
of  the  mechanic,  or  the  hotel  of  the  publican ;  whether 
you  encounter  the  townsman  in  the  social  circle,  or  his 
children  or  apprentices  in  the  street,  let  nothing  ap 
proaching  to  the  offensive  escape  you  toward  any  of 
them.  If  any  mechanic  should  either  do  your  work 
badly,  or  overreach  you  in  his  charges,  or  in  any  way 
treat  you  ill,  I  hope  you  will  never  think  of  quarrel 
ling  with  him,  or  assailing  him  with  abusive  language ; 
but  simply  of  withdrawing  from  him,  and  never  again 
putting  yourselves  in  his  power.  And  so  if  any  word,  or 
look,  or  gesture  of  insolent  character  should  be  shown. 


40  MANNERS. 

by  any  of  the  townspeople,  young  or  old,  do  not  ap 
pear  to  notice  it.  Turn  away,  and  try  to  avoid  com 
ing  in  contact  with  them  again.  Reject  with  scorn,  as 
a  dictate  at  once  of  sin  and  folly,  the  maxim  so  often 
in  the  mouth  of  youthful  inexperience — "  that  it  is 
dastardly  to  take  an  uncivil  word  or  look  from  any  one 
without  resenting  it."  He  who  acts  upon  this  maxim 
may  always  expect  to  have  a  sufficient  number  of 
quarrels  and  broils  on  his  hands  ;  and,  in  fact,  to  be 
at  the  mercy  of  every  ruffian  who  wishes  to  involve 
him  in  a  disreputable  conflict. 

I  have  sometimes  seen  young  men  in  "Nassau 
Hall,"  whose  manners  in  all  the  respects  which  I  have 
mentioned,  were  worthy  of  being  regarded  as  a  model 
for  your  imitation.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to 
hold  them  up  to  your  view,  with -all  the  bright  and 
graphic  clearness  with  which  their  personal  deport 
ment  was  invested.  I  will  try  to  set  before  you  the 
example  of  one  of  their  number,  which  will  never  be 
effaced  from  my  memory,  and  which  I  could  wish 
might  be  indelibly  impressed  upon  yours. 

The  youth  to  whom  I  refer,  was  the  son  of  respecta 
ble  parents,  in  very  moderate,  and  indeed  rather  strait 
ened  circumstances.  He  was,  of  course,  altogether 
unable  to  indulge  in  large  expenditures,  and  was 
obliged  to  exercise  the  strictest  economy  in  dress,  and 
in  all  his  habits.  He  was  not  at  all  distinguished  as  a 
genius,  but  he  had  a  good  mind ;  was  indefatigably 
diligent  in  study ;  was  a  good  scholar,  and  maintained 
an  honourable  standing  in  his  class.  But  his  deport 
ment  as  a  member  of  the  college,  was  above  all  praise. 
Though  he  was  no  way  related  to  me,  yet  I  had  much 
opportunity  of  being  acquainted  with  his  character 
and  course.  And  I  never  heard  of  his  infringing  the 
smallest  law  of  the  institution,  or  incurring  the  re 
motest  frown  from  any  member  of  the  faculty.  Whe 
ther  in  the  lecture-room  or  the  prayer-hall,  in  the 
refectory  or  the  campus,  his  manners  were  those  of 
the  perfect  gentleman.  He  was  no  tale-bearer.  He 


MANNERS.  41 

was  no  supercilious  censor.  The  strictest  integrity, 
delicacy  and  honour  were  manifest  in  all  his  inter 
course.  The  law  of  kindness  and  of  respectfulness 
ever  dwelt  upon  his  tongue,  and  marked  all  his  de 
portment.  A  profane  or  uncivil  word,  during  the 
whole  three  years  that  he  spent  in  Princeton,  was, 
probably,  never  heard  to  escape  from  his  lips.  All 
his  fellow  students  loved  him  ;  for  I  doubt  whether, 
in  his  treatment  of  any  one  of  them,  he  ever  departed 
from  the  most  perfect  urbanity.  He  was  never  heard 
to  call  any  of  them  by  an  offensive  nickname.  He 
never  allowed  himself  to  refer  to  events  or  circum 
stances  adapted  to  give  any  one  pain.  His  deport 
ment  toward  the  very  servants  of  the  college,  was 
always  such  as  to  conciliate  their  respect,  and  even 
their  affection.  He  was  at  the  greatest  remove  from 
being  chargeable  with  smiling  on  vice ;  and  yet  his  op 
position  to  it  was  maintained,  rather  by  standing  aloof 
from  the  vicious,  and  refraining  from  all  fellowship 
with  the  works  of  darkness,  than  by  positive  reproof, 
or  acrimonious  censure.  Even  those  whose  company 
he  avoided  never  complained  of  his  deportment  as  un 
civil.  It  was  marked  by  no  offensive  demeanour,  but 
by  mere  abstinence  from  their  society.  The  very 
worst  of  his  fellow-students  respected  him,  and  "  had 
no  evil  thing  to  say  of  him ;"  and  when  engaged  in 
schemes  of  mischief,  were  almost  as  anxious  to  conceal 
them  from  him  as  from  the  members  of  the  faculty. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  during  his  whole 
course  in  the  institution,  he  was  never  once  involved 
in  a  scrape  or  quarrel  with  an  associate,  or  gave  any 
one  even  a  pretext  for  assailing  him. 

When  this  exemplary  young  man  moved  about  among 
the  people  of  the  town,  the  same  inoffensive  and  per 
fectly  popular  manners  marked  all  his  conduct.  His 
treatment  of  every  mechanic  whom  he  employed ;  of 
every  servant  who  waited  on  him,  or  accosted  him  ;  of 
every  child  in  the  street,  was  ever  so  distinguished  by 
kindness  and  affability,  that  he  was  a  favourite  among 


42  MANNERS. 

them  all.  He  was  so  far  from  ever  involving  himself 
in  broils  or  disputes  with  the  rudest  of  their  number, 
that  his  approach  seemed  to  be  greeted  with  pleasure 
wherever  he  went.  When  he  came  to  be  graduated, 
his  place  on  the  list  of  honours  was  quite  as  high  as  he 
deserved,  because  everybody  loved  and  delighted  to 
do  him  honour.  And  when  /  he  returned  to  the  vil 
lage,  from  time  to  time,  for  a  number  of  years  after 
he  had  left  it,  he  was  hailed  by  all,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest,  as  a  respected  friend. 

If  I  could  cherish  the  hope,  my  dear  sons,  that  you 
would  walk  in  the  steps  of  this  admirable  youth,  and 
leave  the  institution  with  which  it  is  your  privilege  to 
be  connected,  with  a  character  like  his,  my  highest 
wishes,  as  to  this  point,  would  be  gratified.  And  why 
may  you  not  ?  Are  you  not  sensible  that  the  manners 
which  I  have  described,  are  precisely  those  which  would 
carry  you  through  life  with  popularity  and  honour? 
And  do  you  not  know  that,  if  you  wish  to  attain  such 
manners,  you  cannot  begin  too  early  to  cultivate  them  ; 
and  that  those  which  you  carry  with  you  from  college 
will  be  apt  to  follow  you  through  life  ? 

I  have  as  yet  said  nothing  of  the  use  of  profane  lan 
guage  in  common  conversation,  as  belonging  to  the 
subject  of  manners.  As  you  have  been  taught,  from 
your  childhood,  to  abhor  the  language  of  profaneness, 
as  a  sin  against  God,  I  trust  there  is  no  need  of  my 
enlarging  on  this  point.  But  I  wish  you  to  remember 
that,  independently  of  the  offence  against  the  Majesty 
of  heaven,  which  ought  to  be  and  will  be  decisive  with 
every  mind  not  thoroughly  impious,  the  use  of  such 
language  is  as  gross  an  offence  against  good  breeding 
as  it  is  against  the  law  of  God.  There  is  no  principle 
of  good  manners  more  self-evident,  or  more  generally 
admitted  than  this,  that  in  social  intercourse  we  ought 
to  avoid  everything  adapted  to  give  pain  to  those  with 
whom  we  converse.  Now,  can  it  be  doubted  that  there 
are  many,  very  many  with  whom  we  are  called  daily  to 
converse,  who  are  sincerely  grieved,  nay,  offended 


MANNERS.  43 

when  they  hear  "the  name  of  God  taken  in  vain,"  or 
any  form  of  profane  speech  indulged  in  their  presence  ? 
Their  sense  of  propriety  is  outraged,  and  their  moral 
feelings  painfully  invaded  by  every  expression  of  this 
nature.  Is  it  the  part  of  a  gentleman  to  allow  himself 
to  do  this  ?  I  apprehend  that  every  man  of  common 
sense  and  common  decency  will  emphatically  say,  No. 
And  yet  how  strange  is  it  that  many,  who  would  be 
astonished  and  offended  to  hear  their  claim  to  the 
character  of  gentlemen  called  in  question,  at  the  same 
time,  do  not  scruple  every  day  to  wound  the  feelings 
of  those  with  whom  they  converse,  with  language  which, 
if  it  be  not  grossly  blasphemous,  is  such  as  is  adapted 
to  give  pain  to  the  pious,  if  not  to  the  decently  moral 
hearer. 

If  these  sentiments  be  just,  what  shall  be  said  of  that 
young  man  who,  when  he  sees  a  clergyman,  or  other 
well  known  professor  of  religion,  approaching  him, 
within  a  few  feet,  or  immediately  after  having  passed 
him  a  similar  distance,  is  heard  to  blurt  out  so  loudly 
as  to  insure  its  being  audible,  the  most  profane  or  other 
wise  indecent  language  ?  This  is  not  merely  impious — 
it  is  brutal ;  and  those  who  can  be  guilty  of  it,  ought  to 
be  abhorred  as  well  as  despised. 

The  practice  which  I  have  sometimes  known  to  be 
indulged  in  colleges,  of  turning  particular  students 
into  ridicule,  by  repeating  disrespectful  nicknames,  or 
by  satirizing  certain  peculiarities  or  characteristics,  is 
certainly  an  infringement  of  those  good  manners  which 
ought  to  be  cultivated  in  every  literary  institution. 
Suppose  a  gentleman  in  common  life  were  called  upon 
to  be  frequently  in  the  company  of  a  respectable  Jew, 
or  a  person  who  had  lost  an  eye,  or  who,  on  account 
of  lameness,  moved  about  on  crutches,  what  would  be 
thought  of  him,  if  he  were  continually  to  address  these 
persons  respectively  by  nicknames,  reminding  each  of 
his  peculiarity  ?  Suppose  he  were  always  to  call  the 
first,  whenever .  he  spoke  to  him,  "  Israelite ;"  the 
second,  "Blinkard;"  and  the  third,  "  Crutch ;"  would 


44  MANNERS. 

he  be  considered  as  a  man  of  good  manners  ?  Yet  an 
offence  against  good  manners  in  this  respect  is  one  of 
the  most  common  faults  in  all  the  colleges  I  have  ever 
known.  I  once  knew  a  respectable  and  promising 
young  Jew,  who  entered  one  of  our  colleges.  His 
talents  were  good,  his  temper  amiable,  and  his  manners 
of  the  most  inoffensive  kind.  Yet  he  was  so  continually 
twitted  by  a  few — I  am  happy  to  say  it  was  by  a  very 
few,  of  the  coarse,  vulgar  young  men  around  him — by 
various  forms  of  ridicule,  that  the  residence  of  a  few 
weeks  convinced  him  that  he  could  not  longer  remain 
with  comfort  a  member  of  the  institution.  He  was 
withdrawn ;  and  was  prevented  from  ever  passing 
through  any  college.  How  disgraceful  as  well  as  inju 
rious  is  such  conduct  on  the  part  of  young  men,  esti 
mating  the  value  of,  and  seeking  to  obtain,  a  liberal 
education,  and  claiming  the  character  of  gentlemen ! 

And  must  all  the  principles  of  decorum  and  delicacy 
be  set  aside  for  the  sake  of  giving  leave  to  coarse  young 
men,  whenever  an  unfortunate  companion  approaches 
them,  to  remind  him  of  his  infirmity  by  a  ludicrous  or 
contemptuous  nickname  ?  It  would  be  outrageous  in 
the  walks  of  decent  life.  Ought  it  to  be  deemed  other 
wise  in  college  life,  where  decorum  and  refinement 
ought  to  hold  a  sacred  reign  ? 

My  dear  sons,  there  is  more,  after  all,  in  the  effi 
cacy  of  manners,  than  I  can  tell  you  in  one  short  let 
ter.  If  it  be  true,  as  has  been  sometimes  said,  that 
"a  good  face  is  an  open  letter  of  recommendation," 
it  is  equally  true  that  there  is  a  magic  in  pleasant 
manners,  which  scarcely  anything  can  resist.  They 
can  cover  a  multitude  of  defects ;  and  they  have  a 
thousand  times  done  more  for  men  than  all  their  sub 
stantial  qualities  put  together.  The  youth  who  under 
values  or  neglects  them,  whatever  other  advantages  he 
may  possess,  is  under  a  miserable  delusion. 

1  have  dwelt  so  long  on  this  subject  that  I  fear  you 
will  begin  to  think  it  an  intricate  one,  and  imagine 
that  tolerable  skill  in  this  matter  will  be  of  difficult 


MANNERS.  45 

attainment.  If  this  be  the  case  you  greatly  mistake. 
I  grant,  indeed,  that  the  conventional  habits  of  courtly 
society  are  not  to  be  acquired  at  once  by  the  inex 
perienced  youth.  Much  intercourse  with  the  polite 
world  and  close  observation  are  indispensable  to  fami 
liarity  and  skill  in  these  matters.  But  the  cultivation 
and  attainment  of  those  manners  for  which  I  now 
plead,  is  a  simple  and  easy  thing.  Let  the  most  youth 
ful  student  who  can  be  expected  to  be  found  within 
the  walls  of  a  college,  only  possess  good  sense,  true 
benevolence,  and,  of  course,  an  unwillingness  to  give 
pain  to  any  one,  and  a  sincere  desire  to  make  all 
around  him  happy ;  let  him  be  affable,  good-tempered, 
and  desirous  of  pleasing  all  around  him.  Suppose 
him  to  possess  these  simple  elements  of  moral  cha 
racter,  and  nothing  more  will  be  necessary  to  make 
him  an  inoffensive  and  pleasant  companion  in  a  literary 
institution,  or  in  any  part  of  the  world. 


LETTER    IV. 


MORALS. 


"Qui  proficit  in  literis,  et  deficit  in  moribus,  non  proficit,  sed 
deficit."  OECOLAMPADIUS. 

"  The  excesses  of  our  youth  are  drafts  upon  our  old  age,  pay 
able,  with  interest,  about  thirty  years  after  date."  LACON  I.  76. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — The  disposition  to  prefer  intel 
lectual  to  moral  reputation  is  deplorably  prevalent  in 
seminaries  of  learning.  Many  an  ambitious  youth,  if 
he  could  establish  a  character  for  distinguished  genius 
and  scholarship,  would  be  quite  content  to  lie  under 
the  imputation  of  moral  delinquency.  Or,  at  least,  if 
he  must  be  defective  in  either,  he  would  decisively 
choose  that  it  should  be  in  regard  to  moral  purity.  I 
need  not  say,  that  this  preference  is  an  instance  of 
deplorable  infatuation.  It  is  as  much  opposed  to  com 
mon  sense  as  it  is  to  the  word  of  God.  And  it  is  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  the  minds  of  youth  be 
early  imbued  with  sentiments  adapted  to  its  correction. 

I  am  aware  that  many  sober  thinkers  are  opposed 
to  the  consideration  of  this  subject  apart  from  religion. 
They  insist  that  what  is  called  moral  philosophy,  is  a 
mere  system  of  refined  infidelity ;  that  pure  morals 
cannot  be  hoped  for,  and  ought  not  to  be  inculcated, 
apart  from  pure,  evangelical  religion  ;  and  that  all 
attempts  to  promote  them  on  any  other  principles, 
is  an  attempt  to  "gather  grapes  of  thorns  and  figs  of 
thistles."  I  am  by  no  means  able  to  concur  in  this 
opinion,  especially  in  all  its  extent.  I  acknowledge, 
indeed,  that  the  Bible  is  the  only  infallible  and  per- 

(16) 


MORALS.  47 

fectly  pure  teacher  of  morals.  I  acknowledge,  too, 
that  nothing  can  be  relied  on,  either  for  the  attainment 
or  the  maintenance  of  sound  morality,  but  the  religion 
of  Jesus  Christ,  sincerely  believed  and  embraced  as  a 
practical  system.  He  who  expects  strict  moral  principle 
to  hold  a  consistent  and  steady  reign  in  the  heart  of  any 
man  who  is  not  a  real  Christian,  will  infallibly  be  disap 
pointed.  Yet  I  should  not  be  willing  to  say,  that  duty 
ought  in  no  case  to  be  inculcated  by  any  other  argu 
ments  than  those  drawn  from  the  gospel.  I  should 
more  than  hesitate  to  assert,  that  lying,  and  theft,  and 
fraud,  and  drunkenness,  and  impurity,  and  gambling 
ought  never  to  be  prohibited  by  reasonings  which  the 
infidel  might  not  be  made  to  feel,  as  well  as  the 
Christian.  These  sins,  indeed,  ought  always  to  be 
denounced  as  forbidden  in  the  word  of  (rod ;  as 
objects  of  his  righteous  displeasure ;  as  contrary  to  the 
spirit  and  will  of  Christ ;  and  as  wholly  inconsistent 
with  the  Christian  character.  But  may  they  not — 
ought  they  not  to  be  made  to  appear  vile  and  hateful, 
even  in  the  eyes  of  the  sceptic  and  atheist?  Is  it 
wrong  to  tell  men  that  there  are  crimes  against  the 
community,  as  well  as  against  God ;  that  the  practice 
of  them  is  unreasonable,  injurious  to  all  the  interests 
of  the  individual  and  of  society,  unfriendly  to  health, 
to  peace  of  mind,  to  the  principles  of  justice,  bene 
volence  and  truth  ;  in  short,  to  hold  up  to  view  their 
mischievous  and  odious  character  by  representations, 
which  the  rejecter  of  revelation,  no  less  than  the  pro 
fessed  believer,  will  see  to  be  conclusive  ?  The  moral 
philosopher  may  indeed  be  an  infidel.  When  he  is  so, 
it  is  to  be  deplored.  He  is  shorn  of  a  large  part  of 
his  strength.  Still  he  has  a  number  of  weapons  left, 
which  are  not  without  their  value  and  their  convincing 
power,  even  to  a  brother  in  unbelief.  He  may,  with 
great  propriety,  tell  those  who  listen  to  him,  that  the 
crimes  above  specified  are  hurtful  to  himself,  to  his 
intellect,  to  his  physical  frame,  to  his  reputation,  to 
his  influence  in  society,  to  his  children,  to  the  com- 


48  MORALS. 

munity  at  large.  This  is  moral  philosophy.  Its  best 
armoury,  no  doubt,  is  the  Bible ;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
it  is  not  without  weapons  which  those  who  reject  the 
Bible  may  feel  and  be  benefited  by. 

The  object  of  this  letter,  my  dear  sons,  is  to  con 
vince  you  that  good  morals  are  indispensable  to  the 
safety,  health,  happiness,  and  true  welfare  of  all,  in 
every  walk  of  life ;  and,  therefore,  that  those  who  are 
preparing  to  live  by  the  acquirement  of  an  education, 
and  by  professional  character,  ought  to  make  their 
moral  culture  an  object  of  primary  and  unceasing  at 
tention.  A  man  without  genius,  without  eminent  tal 
ents,  may  be  both  useful  and  happy.  With  barely  de 
cent  powers  of  mind,  if  he  be  honest,  sober,  industri 
ous,  and  prudent,  he  may  be  beloved,  respected  and 
highly  useful ;  may  "  serve  his  generation  by  the  will 
of  God,"  and  leave  a  name  behind  him  of  unspeakably 
more  value  than  great  riches.  But  however  transcen 
dent  his  talents,  if  he  be  a  liar,  intemperate,  dishonest, 
or  licentious,  he  will,  of  course,  be  despised  by  the  wise 
and  the  good,  and  no  degree  of  patronage  can  give 
him  an  honourable  standing  in  society.  In  fact,  no 
one  without  a  fair  moral  character  can  hope  to  rise  in 
the  world ;  and  the  more  firm  and  fixed  that  character, 
the  more  precious  a  treasure  it  will  be  found,  whatever 
may  be  our  lot  in  life. 

Need  I  tell  you,  for  example,  how  fatal  intemperance 
is  to  the  body,  to  the  mind,  to  reputation,  to  all  pro 
fessional  respectability  and  success  ?  Need  I  attempt 
to  set  before  you  the  melancholy  picture,  so  often  pre 
sented  to  the  public  view,  of  talents  degraded,  of  health 
undermined  and  ruined,  of  property  squandered,  of 
families  prostrated  by  this  fell  destroyer  ?  Who  that 
has  seen  so  many  of  the  deplorable  triumphs  of  strong 
drink  over  all  the  best  interests  of  man  for  time  and 
eternity,  can  hold  his  peace,  or  forbear  to  proclaim  to 
every  young  man,  "  Fly, — 0  fly  from  this  arch-foe  to 
human  happiness !  Let  nothing  tempt  you  to  touch  or 
taste  the  fatal  cup.  There  is  death  in  it.  Your  only 


MORALS.  49 

safety  is  in  total  abstinence  from  the  stimulus  of  strong 
drink  in  every  form.  If  you  allow  yourself  to  taste  it 
at  all,  there  is  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  it  will  be 
come  your  master,  and  prove  your  ruin."  When  I  hear 
of  a  young  man  that  he  has  a  fondness  for  strong  drink, 
and  has  been  seen  under  the  power  of  intoxication,  I 
instinctively  give  him  up  as  lost,  and  abandon  all  hope 
of  ever  seeing  him  either  respectable  or  useful.  There 
is  no  sin  which  more  directly  tends  to  secure  its  own 
continuance  and  increase,  or  which  more  infallibly  pro 
duces  the  wreck  of  all  human  prosperity.  What  though 
the  deluded  youth  intends  only  to  indulge  to  a  small 
extent,  and  to  avoid  habitual  excess  ?  What  though 
he  abhors  the  character  of  the  drunkard,  and  is  firmly 
determined  to  stop  long  before  he  reaches  the  drunk 
ard's  dishonour  ?  Does  he  not  know  that  there  is  not 
the  least  reason  to  rely  upon  his  own  resolution,  how 
ever  sincere  at  the  time,  and  that  he  who  parleys  with 
the  tempter  is  probably  lost  ? 

No  less  fatal  to  the  true  honour  and  happiness  of  a 
young  man  is  the  want  of  integrity.  What  though  he 
had  all  the  talents  and  all  the  scholarship  that  ever  fell 
to  the  lot  of  a  mortal  ?  Yet  if  he  were  known  to  be 
regardless  of  truth,  to  be  destitute  of  honesty  and 
honour  in  the  intercourse  of  society, — who  would  re 
spect  him?  who  could  avoid  instinctively  despising 
him  ?  Who  would  think  of  employing  or  trusting  him 
in  matters  of  weight  and  importance  ?  Even  the  worst 
of  his  classmates  would  turn  away  from  him  with  con 
tempt  and  abhorrence,  as  unworthy  of  confidence  in 
anything.  And  in  regard  to  his  future  profession  and 
prospects,  what  could  be  more  hopeless  ?  It  cannot  be 
supposed  that  such  a  young  man  would  seek  the  office 
of  a  minister  of  the  gospel ;  from  that  the  common 
consent  of  all  would,  of  course,  exclude  him.  But 
•what  other  profession  could  he  safely  or  honourably 
fill  ?  None.  In  none  could  he  obtain  public  esteem. 
In  none  could  he  succeed,  either  as  to  emolument  or 
confidence.  A  sort  of  honour  even  among  thieves  is 


50  MORALS. 

indispensable  to  that  standing  with  his  comrades,  which 
even  the  occupant  of  such  a  wretched  position  desires 
to  maintain. 

Nothing  is  more  directly  adapted  to  secure  to  any 
young  man  the  highest  respect  and  honour  among  his 
companions,  than  an  established  character  for  invinci 
ble  veracity ;  a  reputation  for  integrity,  honour,  and 
faithfulness,  which  nothing  can  shake,  nothing  assail. 
I  have  known  students,  by  no  means  remarkable  for 
either  talents  or  scholarship,  who,  on  account  of  these 
qualities,  enjoyed  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  their 
fellows  to  a  most  enviable  degree  ;  who  were  always 
selected  where  delicate  and  confidential  services  were 
to  be  performed ;  and  who  were  remembered  to  the 
close  of  life  for  this  proverbial  candour  and  truth.  My 
dear  sons,  let  me  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  that 
you  sustain  such  a  character  among  your  classmates 
and  companions ;  that  the  mention  of  your  name  is  a 
pledge,  with  all  who  know  you,  that  you  would  rather 
die  than  be  found  guilty  of  prevarication  or  falsehood 
in  the  minutest  matter. 

The  same  deplorable  results  must  ensue  to  that 
youth,  who  allows  himself  in  college  to  imbibe  the 
spirit  and  form  the  habits  of  a  gambler.  The  founda 
tion  of  this  vice  is  often  laid  within  the  college  walls ; 
and  I  need  not  say  that  there  is  scarcely  any  vice  more 
directly  adapted  to  "take  away  the  heart,"  to  fasci 
nate  the  mind,  to  engross  the  attention,  and  to  destroy 
him  who  yields  to  it,  for  both  worlds.  Like  many  other 
vices  it  begins  on  a  small  scale.  The  youthful  votary 
never  dreams  in  the  outset,  of  going  far,  or  adventur 
ing  much.  But  the  fascination  and  the  fever  gradu 
ally  gain  upon  him.  From  one  step  to  another  he  is 
led  on,  until  ruin,  despair,  and  perhaps  suicide,  close 
his  career. 

Further ;  the  use  of  profane  language  may  be  num 
bered  among  those  immoral  practices  which  disgrace 
literary  institutions,  and  exert  a  mischievous  influence 
wherever  indulged.  God  has  forbidden  us  to  take  his 


MORALS.  51 

holy  name  in  vain,  and  has  declared  that  he  "will  not 
hold  him  guiltless"  who  violates  this  command.  Now, 
we  may  be  always  said  to  take  the  name  of.  God  in 
vain  when  we  pronounce  it  in  a  light  and  irreverent 
manner,  and,  above  all,  when  profane  oaths  and  im 
precations,  and  the  language  of  blasphemy,  escape  our 
lips.  This  sin  is  invested  with  so  many  hateful  char 
acteristics,  that  it  is  truly  wonderful  that  any  one  who 
lays  claim  to  culture  or  decency  should  ever  be  heard 
to  indulge  it.  It  marks  a  spirit  of  high-handed  im 
piety.  It  tends  to  excite  and  encourage  a  similar  spirit 
in  others.  It  is  deeply  offensive  and  grievous  to  all 
who  fear  God,  and  reverence  his  word ;  and  is,  of 
course,  a  species  of  ill  manners  of  the  most  vulgar 
character,  of  which  every  one  who  professes  to  be  a 
gentleman  ought  to  be  deeply  ashamed.  Surely  such 
language  ought  to  be  left  to  those  who  not  only  despise 
God  and  his  law,  but  who  also  set  at  naught  all  that 
decorum  which  marks  the  intercourse  of  the  well  edu 
cated  and  polished  portion  of  the  community. 

I  shall  only  notice  particularly  one  more  vice,  which 
has  been  the  source  of  more  injury  and  degradation  to 
promising  young  men,  than  any  statements  or  estimate 
of  mine  can  adequately  portray.  I  mean  the  licen 
tiousness  of  the  libertine  in  regard  to  the  other  sex. 
It  is  not  easy  to  speak  of  this  subject  without  such  an 
offence  against  delicacy  as  is  revolting  to  virtuous  minds. 
Still  truth  must  be  stated,  and  warning  given  to  those 
who  have  not  closed  their  ears  against  all  the  dictates 
of  wisdom.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  illicit  inter 
course  of  the  sexes  is  the  source  of  immeasurable  mis 
ery,  shame  and  ruin  ;  not  merely  to  females,  destroyed 
by  seducers,  but  also  to  the  seducers  themselves,  and  to 
all  who  are  involved  in  their  destiny.  However  lightly 
this  sin  may  be  considered  by  the  licentious,  unprin 
cipled  young  man,  there  is,  perhaps,  no  sin  connected 
with  more  multiform  and  deplorable  evils.  It  is  not 
only  a  violation  of  the  holy  law  of  God,  which  denoun 
ces  against  it  his  wrath  and  curse,  but  it  is  productive 


52  MORALS. 

of  countless  miseries  in  the  present  life  of  the  most 
awful  kind.  It  pollutes  the  mind.  It  hardens  the 
heart.  It  corrupts  the  whole  moral  character.  It  in 
flicts  on  society  heavy  and  complicated  injuries.  It 
destroys  the  peace  of  families.  It  entails  infamy  and 
misery  on  posterity.  I  have  known  a  number  of  young 
men,  otherwise  of  high  promise,  who,  by  a  single  un 
hallowed  connection  of  this  kind,  have  drawn  a  dark 
cloud  over  all  their  subsequent  course ;  have  found 
themselves  embarrassed  and  depressed  at  every  at 
tempt  to  gain  a  respectable  place  in  society  ;  entirely 
cut  off  from  the  associations  and  the  honours  which 
they  might  otherwise  have  gained  ;  and  avoided  by  all 
decent  people — and  especially  by  those  who  have  regu 
lar  and  orderly  families,  as  persons  whose  touch  is  pol 
lution. 

I  would  say,  then,  to  you,  my  sons,  and  to  every 
youth  in  whom  I  felt  a  special  interest,  Turn  away 
from  this  sin,  and  from  everything  which  leads  to  it, 
as  you  would  from  a  cup  of  poison,  or  from  the  assas 
sin's  dagger.  If  you  desire  to  avoid  becoming  its  vic 
tims,  never  allow  yourselves  to  parley  with,  but  fly  from 
it.  Here  he  who  deliberates  is  lost.  One  transgression, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  drunkard's  cup,  may  lead  to 
another,  and  another,  until  the  chains  of  iniquity  are 
riveted  around  you,  and  the  destruction  of  your  char 
acter,  and  of  all  your  prospects  in  life,  is  for  ever  sealed. 
If  you  wish  to  avoid  the  entanglements  and  disgrace 
which  have  entailed  infamy  and  misery  on  thousands ; 
if  you  would  preserve  a  character  unspotted,  and  do 
nothing  to  interfere  with  your  enjoyment  of  that  pure 
and  happy  conjugal  connection,  which  it  ought  to  be  the 
desire  and  sacred  ambition  of  every  young  man  to  form, 
as  one  of  the  noblest  institutions  of  heaven,  and,  like 
the  sabbath  and  the  gospel,  adapted  to  shed  countless 
blessings  on  individuals  and  the  world ; — then  keep  your 
selves  pure  from  this  sin,  and  sacredly  avoid  everything 
which  may  serve  as  an  incentive  to  so  great  an  evil. 

But  I  will  not  multiply  particulars  further.     I  hope 


MORALS.  53 

you  are  convinced,  my  dear  sons,  that  every  form  of 
immorality  is  as  unfriendly  to  your  temporal  success  in 
life,  as  it  is  offensive  in  the  eyes  of  a  holy  God,  and 
adapted  to  draw  down  his  judgments  upon  you.  "  The 
way  of  transgressors  is  indeed  hard."  Misery  and 
shame  are  its  native  and  necessary  consequences.  You 
may  hope  by  the  force  of  your  talents,  and  by  the  fame 
of  your  scholarship,  to  obviate  these  consequences. 
But  this  is  "  fighting  against  God."  If  you  indulge 
in  any  form  of  immorality,  it  would  require  a  constant 
course  of  miracles  to  save  you  from  the  temporal  as 
well  as  eternal  penalty,  which  a  holy  God  has  annexed 
to  the  transgression  of  his  law.  And  remember,  I 
entreat  you,  two  things  which  are  worthy  of  your 
serious  consideration  in  regard  to  immoral  practices. 
The  first  is,  that  the  young  are  peculiarly  exposed 
to  these  criminal  and  mischievous  indulgences.  Their 
passions  are  strong ;  their  experience  is  small ;  their 
moral  principles  are  too  often  weak  and  wavering  ;  their 
feelings  are  sanguine  and  buoyant ;  their  self-confidence 
is  great ;  and  they  are  frequently  led  on  by  the  social 
principle  to  practices  which,  however  manifestly  peril 
ous,  have  never  been  duly  considered.  0  how  often 
are  young  persons  led,  "  like  an  ox  to  the  slaughter," 
by  evil  passions,  or  evil  companions,  or  both,  into  habits 
from  which  they  apprehend  no  danger  !  Our  corrupt 
hearts,  indeed,  are  apt,  at  all  ages,  to  triumph  over  con 
science  and  the  dictates  of  virtue  ;  but  in  youth  many 
of  the  safeguards  against  vice,  which  longer  experience 
and  more  sedate  feelings  furnish,  either  do  not  exist  at 
all,  or  operate  much  more  feebly.  0,  if  a  young  man, 
when  he  begins  to  slide,  could  see,  as  his  older  friends 
or  his  parents  see,  the  yawning  gulf  on  the  brink  of 
which  he  stands,  and  the  awful  peril  to  which  he  is 
exposed,  he  would  be  thankful  to  any  one  who  should 
interpose,  and  with  a  friendly  hand  forcibly  pull  him 
away  from  the  precipice.  But  as  he  is  peculiarly  ex 
posed  to  danger,  so  it  is  hard  to  make  him  see  or  feel 
its  reality. 
5* 


54  MORALS. 

The  second  consideration  worthy  of  your  serious 
regard  is,  that  as  youth  is  a  season  of  peculiar  expo 
sure  to  the  entanglements  of  immorality,  so  the  im 
moral  habits  then  formed  are  peculiarly  apt  to  establish 
a  fatal  reign,  and  finally  and  totally  to  destroy  their 
unhappy  victims.  Habits  formed  in  the  morning  of 
life  are  apt  to  "  grow  with  the  growth,  and  strengthen 
with  the  strength."  It  has  been  remarked  by  saga 
cious  observers  of  human  nature,  that  as  young  men, 
from  the  ardour  of  their  feelings,  and  their  love  of  ex 
citement,  are  more  apt,  for  example,  to  be  ensnared 
by  strong  drink  than  those  more  advanced  in  life ;  so 
tippling  habits  formed  in  early  life  are  peculiarly  apt 
to  gain  strength,  to  take  a  firmer  and  more  morbid 
hold  of  the  physical  frame,  and  to  drag  their  victim 
more  powerfully  and  speedily  to  a  drunkard's  grave. 

The  same  general  remark  may  be  made  concerning 
almost  every  other  form  of  vice; — concerning  depar 
tures  from  the  solemnity  of  truth,  the  indulgence  of 
illicit  sexual  intercourse,  and  approaches  to  the  gam 
bler's  career.  He  who  is  enabled  to  keep  himself 
pure  from  these  sins  during  his  youth,  has  gained  an 
advantage,  for  which  he  can  never  be  sufficiently  thank 
ful.  Every  successive  year  that  this  happy  exemption 
continues,  augments,  under  God,  his  ground  of  confi 
dence  and  hope.  Now  is  the  time,  my  dear  sons,  if 
you  wish  to  form  habits  which  will  bear  reflection ; 
which  will  secure  you  from  the  vices  which  are  daily 
destroying  thousands ;  which  will  prepare  you,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  for  a  useful  and  honoured  career  ; 
and  for  a  green  and  happy  old  age,  with  bodily  and 
mental  faculties  unimpaired  by  excess ;  with  grateful 
recollections  of  the  past,  and  with  a  good  hope  through 
grace  for  the  future.  Guard  with  the  utmost  care, 
and  with  humble,  unceasing  application  to  the  God  of 
all  grace  for  strength,  against  every  approach  to  that 
which  is  forbidden.  And  remember  that  in  all  the 
extent  of  the  expression  it  may  be  said,  that  "  the 
ways  of  wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her 
paths  peace." 


LETTER  V. 


RELIGION. 

Chose  admirable  !  la  religion  Chretienne,  qui  ne  semble  avoir 
d'objet  que  la  felicite  de  1'autre  vie,  fait  encore  notre  bonheur 
dans  celle-ci.  MONTESQUIEU. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — I  have  hitherto  addressed  you 
on  subjects  so  practically  and  immediately  im 
portant  in  college  life ;  so  universally  acknowledged 
to  be  essential  to  all  decorum  of  character,  and 
all  respectability  of  standing  in  decent  society,  that 
you  will  not,  it  is  presumed,  admit  for  a  moment 
of  doubt  or  cavil  in  regard  to  anything  which  has 
been  advanced.  But  I  must  now  request  your  at 
tention  to  a  subject,  concerning  which  there  is  great 
diversity  of  opinion,  and  especially  of  feeling,  among 
young  men.  For  though  it  is,  incontrovertibly, 
the  most  important  of  all  subjects  which  the  human 
mind  can  contemplate  ;  yet  you  see  and  hear  enough 
every  day  to  know,  that  the  great  majority  of  those 
around  you,  of  all  ages,  and  especially  of  those  who 
are  borne  along  by  the  sanguine  hopes  and  the  ardent 
passions  of  youth,  have  no  disposition  to  make  religion 
even  an  object  of  serious  inquiry,  much  less  to  submit 
to  its  governing  power.  Yet  can  anything  be  more 
self-evident  than  that,  if  there  be  an  object  within  the 
range  of  human  study  more  worthy  of  supreme  atten 
tion  than  all  others,  religion  is  that  object  ?  Surely, 
to  every  thinking  being,  the  existence  and  character 
of  our  Almighty  Creator  ;  the  relations  and  responsi 
bility  which  we  bear  to  him  j  the  means  of  obtaining 

(55) 


56  RELIGION. 

his  favour ;  the  immortality  and  destiny  of  our  souls ; 
and  the  method  of  securing  endless  blessedness,  when 
all  the  possessions  and  enjoyments  of  this  world  shall 
have  passed  away — are  objects  of  regard  which  infi 
nitely  transcend  all  others  in  interest  and  importance. 
How,  then,  shall  we  account  for  the  undeniable  fact, 
that  these  great  objects,  though  confessedly  the  most 
interesting  that  can  be  presented  to  the  human  mind, 
are  precisely  those  which  educated,  intellectual  young 
men  are  more  apt  to  neglect  and  disregard  than  all 
others  ?  I  can  account  for  this  unquestionable  and 
distressing  fact,  only  by  recognizing  as  assuredly  true, 
what  the  Bible  declares  concerning  our  fallen  and  de 
praved  nature ; — that  "  the  natural  (or  unrenewed) 
man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they  are  spiritually 
discerned  ;" — that  "  madness  is  in  the  hearts  of  men 
while  they  live,  and  after  that  they  go  to  the  dead." 
This  statement  solves  the  difficulty ;  and  shows  us  why 
it  is  that,  while  a  great  majority,  even  of  the  young, 
grant  in  words  that  piety  is  both  wisdom  and  happi 
ness  ;  while  they  confess  that  they  ought  to  be  pious ; 
and  while  so  many  profess  to  lament  that  they  are  not 
pious ;  yet  that  millions  with  these  confessions  on 
their  lips,  voluntarily  neglect  this  great  concern,  as  if 
it  were  known  to  be  the  veriest  fable.  Their  judg 
ments  are  in  favour  of  it.  Their  consciences  tell  them 
that  it  ought  not  to  be  neglected  ;  but  "  they  have  no 
heart  for  it;"  and  hence  they  go  on  from  day  to  day 
to  postpone  all  attention  to  it,  without  anxiety,  and 
without  regret. 

Allow  me  to  hope  that  my  beloved  sons — who  have 
been  dedicated  to  God  in  holy  baptism  ;  who  have 
lived,  from  their  infancy,  in  a  house  of  Bibles,  and  of 
prayer  ;  and  who  have  already  seen,  even  in  the  few 
years  they  have  lived,  so  many  of  the  deplorable  fruits 
of  impiety — will  not  indulge  in  this  infatuation  ;  or 
rather,  that  they  will  beg  of  the  God  of  all  grace  to 
enable  them  to  take  a  wiser  course,  and,  like  one  com- 


RELIGION.  57 

mended  of  old,  to  choose  that  good  part  which  shall 
not  be  taken  away  from  them. 

But  where,  on  this  subject,  shall  I  begin  ?  That 
every  human  being  has  within  him  an  immortal  spirit 
which  will  survive  the  dissolution  of  the  body  ;  that 
there  is  a  God  who  made  us,  who  has  a  right  to  our 
services,  and  who  will  finally  be  our  judge ;  that  he 
is  a  being  of  infinite  holiness,  who  cannot  look  upon 
sin  but  with  abhorrence  ;  and  that  without  his  favour 
we  can  never  be  happy — these  are  first  principles  on 
this  great  subject,  which,  it  is  presumed,  no  one  but  an 
atheist  will,  for  a  moment,  deny  or  question.  But 
how  the  favour  of  this  great  Being,  with  all  its  precious 
results,  is  to  be  obtained,  and  our  happiness  in  both 
worlds  secured,  is  the  grand  question  which  religion — 
the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  alone,  can  satis 
factorily  answer. 

The  great  principle  with  which  we  are  to  begin,  in 
all  our  inquiries  on  this  subject,  is  that  we  are  sinners ; 
that  we  need  pardon  for  our  offences,  and  the  purifica 
tion  of  our  depraved  nature.  No  expressions  are  more 
common  among  all  classes  of  men  than  those  of  "Saviour 
and  salvation.  But  why  do  we  need  a  Saviour,  unless 
we  are  involved  in  guilt  and  ruin  before  God  ?  Why 
need  a  Redeemer  and  redemption,  unless  we  are  the 
bondslaves  of  sin  and  Satan,  and  can  be  ransomed  only 
by  an  Almighty  Deliverer,  paying  our  debt  to  the  jus 
tice  of  God,  and  making  an  atonement  for  our  sins  ? 
Accordingly  the  word  of  God  teaches  us,  not  merely 
that,  if  we  go  on  to  forget  and  neglect  the  divine  law, 
we  are  in  danger  of  incurring  the  awful  displeasure  of 
our  Maker  and  Sovereign,  but  that  we  are  "  con 
demned  already;"  that  we  are  by  nature  guilty  and 
polluted,  and  must  inevitably  perish,  unless  we  are 
delivered  from  condemnation  and  depravity  by  the 
power  and  grace  of  the  Saviour.  The  whole  strain  of 
Scripture,  from  beginning  to  end,  represents  us  as  in 
these  deplorable  circumstances.  When  it  proclaims 
that  Christ  caine  "  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost;"  wheu 


58  RELIGION. 

it  tells  us  that  "  the  whole  have  no  need  of  a  physician, 
but  they  who  are  sick;"  when  it  calls  upon  all  the 
children  of  men  in  every  situation  of  life  to  "  repent 
of  sin  ;"  and  when  it  assures  us  that,  without  a  renova 
tion  of  our  nature,  we  can  never  see  the  face  of  God  in 
peace,  it  is  evident  that  all  these  representations  con 
spire  to  fasten  upon  us  the  charge  of  being  fallen  and 
depraved  creatures,  in  need  of  deliverance  from  ruin. 
If  this  be  so,  surely  our  situation  is  most  serious,  de 
manding  all  that  solemn  consideration  in  regard  to  our 
acceptance  with  God,  and  our  preparation  for  meeting 
him,  which  the  holy  Scriptures  everywhere  call  upon 
us  to  exercise. 

It  has  been  your  privilege,  my  dear  sons,  from  your 
childhood,  to  be  instructed  in  the  way  of  salvation  by 
Christ.  But  this  is  one  of  the  great  subjects  in  regard  to 
which  "  line  upon  line,  and  precept  upon  precept,"  are 
found  needful.  You  will  not,  therefore,  I  trust,  con 
sider  it  as  superfluous  to  have  your  attention  drawn  to 
that  great  method  of  mercy,  which  the  word  of  God 
styles  "  glad  tidings  of  great  joy  to  all  people."  And 
I  hope,  too,  you  will  not  forget  that  it  is  one  thing  to 
contemplate  and  acknowledge  this  method  of  mercy  as 
a  mere  doctrinal  statement,  and  quite  another  to  re 
ceive  it  with  gratitude  and  love,  and  make  it  the  guide 
and  joy  of  our  lives. 

The  following  statement  may  be  considered  as  ex 
hibiting  that  plan  of  acceptance  with  God,  and  of 
eternal  life,  with  which  you  have  been  familiar  from 
your  youth  up.  0  that  it  were  impressed  upon  every 
heart  connected  with  your  institution,  not  merely  as 
a  system  of  theoretical  belief,  but  as  a  plan  of  practical 
hope  and  life ! 

Man  was  made  perfectly  upright ;  in  full  possession 
of  all  the  powers  necessary  to  perfect  moral  agency, 
and  with  all  the  dispositions  which  prompted  to  a  per 
fectly  correct  use  of  those  powers.  But  "man  being 
in  honour  abode  not."  He  rebelled  against  God.  He 
violated  the  covenant  under  which  he  was  placed,  and 


RELIGION.  59 

became  liable  to  the  dreadful  penalty  which  it  de 
nounced  against  transgressors.  In  this  fall  of  our  first 
parents  we  are  all  sharers.  Adam,  as  the  covenant 
head  of  our  race,  bore  a  representative  character.  He 
was  so  constituted  by  a  sovereign  God ;  and  when  he 
f el],  all  his  posterity  fell  with  him.  "In  Adam," 
says  the  inspired  apostle,  "  all  die."  "  By  one  man's 
disobedience,"  he  again  declares,  "  many  were  made 
sinners."  When  our  first  father  lost  the  holy  image 
of  God,  he  was  of  course  incapable  of  transmitting  it 
to  us.  We  have,  therefore,  all  totally  lost  our  original 
righteousness  ;  so  that  there  is  now,  by  nature,  "  none 
righteous,  no  not  one."  In  short,  we  have  all  become 
guilty  and  polluted  before  God,  and  incapable  of  re 
gaining  his  image  or  his  favour  by  any  merit  or  doings 
of  our  own.  How,  then,  are  we  to  be  delivered  from 
these  deplorable  circumstances  ?  How  shall  we  escape 
that  wrath  and  curse  which  are  the  just  penalty  of  sin  ? 
"  How  can  we  escape  the  damnation  of  hell  ?"  In  one 
word,  how  can  those  who  must  confess  themselves  to  be 
sinners,  miserable  sinners,  be  saved  ?  The  law  of  God 
demands  perfect  obedience  in  thought,  word,  and  deed, 
upon  pain  of  death.  It  makes  no  allowance  for  the 
smallest  delinquency  or  imperfection.  Indeed,  a  Being 
of  infinite  purity  cannot  possibly  demand  less  than  per 
fection.  To  do  this,  would  be  to  countenance  sin.  Nor 
can  God  set  aside  his  own  law,  or  permit  his  majesty 
and  authority,  as  a  righteous  Governor,  to  be  trampled 
under  foot.  To  "  clear  the  guilty,"  to  take  impenitent 
rebels,  polluted  with  the  love,  as  well  as  laden  with  the 
guilt  of  sin,  into  the  arms  of  his  love,  would  be  to  "  deny 
himself."  Where  then  is  our  refuge  ?  Can  God,  con 
sistently  with  his  righteous  character,  forgive  sin  at 
all  ?  If  he  can,  how  much,  and  under  what  circum 
stances,  can  he  forgive  ?  To  these  questions  the  light 
of  nature  can  give  no  answer.  Without  the  light  of 
revelation,  clouds  and  darkness  rest  upon  all  the  con 
ditions  and  prospects  of  our  race. 
But,  blessed  be  God!  "life  and  immortality  are 


60  RELIGION. 

brought  to  light  through  the  gospel."  Jehovah,  in  his 
infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  love,  has  devised  and  pro 
claimed  a  wonderful  plan,  by  which  sin  was  punished  in 
our  representative,  while  the  sinner  is  pardoned ;  by 
which  justice  is  completely  satisfied,  while  mercy  is 
extended  to  the  guilty  and  vile ;  by  which  "  grace 
reigns  through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life,  by  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord."  This  wonderful  and  glorious  plan 
of  mercy  consisted  in  the  Father  giving  his  own  Son 
to  obey,  suffer,  and  die  in  our  stead,  as  our  substitute ; 
and  in  the  Son  consenting  to  take  our  place,  to  bear 
the  penalty  of  the  law  in  our  stead,  to  "put  away  sin 
by  the  sacrifice  of  himself,"  and  by  his  sufferings  and 
obedience  to  purchase  for  us  that  justifying  righteous 
ness  which  we  could  never  have  wrought  out  for  our 
selves. 

Such  are  the  "glad  tidings  of  great  joy"  which  in  the 
gospel  are  proclaimed  to  our  fallen  world ;  that  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  eternal  Son  of  God,  condescended,  in 
his  wonderful  love,  to  assume  our  nature ;  to  obey  and 
suffer  as  our  surety  ;  to  lift  the  penalty  of  sin  from  us, 
and  take  it  on  himself;  and  thus  voluntarily  to  become 
the  victim  of  divine  justice  in  our  stead.  His  language, 
in  the  eternal  counsels  of  peace,  was,  "  Let  me  suffer  in 
stead  of  the  guilty ;  let  me  die  to  save  them.  Deliver  them 
from  going  down  to  the  pit ;  I  will  be  their  ransom." 
This  wonderful,  this  unparalleled  offer  was  accepted. 
The  Father  was  well  pleased  for  the  righteousness'  sake 
of  his  Son.  He  accepted  his  atoning  sacrifice  and 
perfect  righteousness  as  the  price  of  our  justification  ; 
so  that  all  who  repent  of  sin,  and  believe  in  the  name 
of  this  great  Mediator,  are  "  freely  justified  from  all 
things,  from  which  they  could  not  be  justified  by  the 
law  of  Moses" — that  is  by  their  own  works  of  obedience. 
So  that  the  Scripture  may  well  say  concerning  the 
Saviour — "  lie  is  the  end  of  the  law  for  righteousness 
to  every  one  that  believeth.  He  is  the  Lord  our 
righteousness.  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgression  ; 
he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities  ;  the  chastisement  of 


RELIGION.  61 

our  peace  was  upon  him ;  and  by  his  stripes  we  are 
healed.  He  bare  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree. 
He  died  the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring 
us  to  God.  He  delivered  us  from  the  curse  of  the 
law,  being  made  a  curse  for  us." 

Here,  then,  my  dear  sons,  is  the  only  way  of  a 
sinner's  return  to  God,  and  securing  a  title  to  eternal 
blessedness.  In  virtue  of  the  covenant  of  redemption, 
the  righteousness  of  Christ,  or  what  he  did  and  suffered 
on  our  behalf,  is  placed  to  the  account  of  all  who  be 
lieve  in  him,  as  if  they  had  performed  it  in  their  own 
persons.  Though  sinful  and  utterly  unworthy  in  them 
selves,  God  is  pleased  to  pardon  and  accept  them  as 
righteous  in  his  sight,  only  for  the  righteousness'  sake 
of  his  beloved  Son.  I  am  aware,  indeed,  that  some 
who  speak  much  of  the  "  merits  of  Christ,"  and  pro 
fess  to  rely  entirely  on  those  merits,  represent  the  whole 
subject  in  a  very  different  light.  They  suppose  that,  in 
consideration  of  the  sufferings  and  death  of  our  blessed 
Saviour,  the  original  law  of  God,  demanding  perfect 
obedience,  is  repealed,  and  a  mitigated  law  prescribed 
as  the  rule  of  our  obedience.  So  that  now,  under  the 
Christian  dispensation,  a  perfect  obedience  is  not  re 
quired,  but  only  an  imperfect  one,  accommodated  to 
our  fallen  nature  and  our  many  infirmities.  But  they 
insist  that  this  imperfect  obedience  is  the  meritorious 
ground  of  our  acceptance  with  God  ;  and,  of  course, 
that  eternal  life  is  the  purchase  of  our  own  works.  In 
short,  the  doctrine  of  these  errorists  is,  that  the  benefit 
conferred  by  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ,  con 
sists,  not  in  providing  an  entire  righteousness  for  us, 
but  only  in  abating  the  demands  of  the  law ;  in  bring 
ing  down  the  divine  requirements  more  to  a  level  with 
our  ability,  and  still  enabling  us,  low  as  we  have  fallen, 
to  be  the  purchasers  of  salvation  by  our  own  obedience. 
Be  assured  this  view  of  the  subject  is  a  grievous  de 
parture  from  the  scriptural  doctrine  concerning  the 
way  of  salvation.  The  Bible  represents  our  pardon  and 
acceptance  with  God  as  not  founded,  in  any  respect,  or 
6 


62  RELIGION. 

in  any  degree,  on  our  own  obedience ;  but  as  wholly 
of  grace — as  a  mere  unmerited  gift,  bestowed  solely  on 
account  of  what  the  Redeemer  has  done  as  our  substi 
tute  and  surety.  It  represents  the  holy  law  of  God  as 
remaining  in  all  its  original  strictness,  without  repeal 
or  mitigation ;  and  as  still  falling  with  the  whole  weight 
of  its  penalty  on  all  who  have  not  taken  refuge  by  faith 
in  the  Redeemer.  But  it  declares  the  penalty  to  be  re 
moved  from  all  who  repent,  and  believe  the  gospel,  not 
on  account  of  any  worthiness  in  themselves,  as  the 
meritorious  ground  of  the  benefit,  but  only  on  account 
of  the  perfect  righteousness  of  Him  who,  "  through  the 
eternal  Spirit,  offered  himself  without  spot  to  God." 
In  short,  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible  is,  that  the  holy  cha 
racter  of  God  remaining  unchangeably  the  same,  and 
his  law  remaining  without  the  least  mitigation  or  abate 
ment,  the  penitent  and  believing  are  accepted  as 
righteous,  solely  on  account  of  the  obedience  of  the 
Mediator  set  to  their  account,  and  considered  as  wrought 
for  them. 

This  righteousness  of  Jehovah  the  Saviour  is  said  to 
be  "  to  all,  and  upon  all  them  that  believe," — that  is, 
it  is  imputed  to  none,  set  to  the  account  of  none,  but 
those  who  receive  Christ  by  faith.  Faith  is  that  great 
master  grace  by  which  we  become  united  to  the  Saviour, 
and  his  merits  are  made  ours.  This  righteousness,  there 
fore,  is  called  "  the  righteousness  of  faith,"  and  "the 
righteousness  of  God  by  faith."  Hence  we  are  said 
to  be  "justified  by  faith,"  and  to  be  "  saved  by  faith  ;" 
not  that  faith,  as  an  act  of  ours,  is  in  any  measure  the 
meritorious  ground  of  our  justification  ;  but  all  these 
expressions  imply  that  there  is  an  inseparable  connec 
tion,  in  the  economy  of  grace,  between  believing  in 
Christ,  and  being  justified  by  him,  or  having  his 
righteousness  imputed  to  us.  Happy,  thrice  happy 
they,  who  can  thus  call  the  Saviour  theirs,  and  who 
have  thus  "  received  the  atonement."  From  this  hour, 
though  unworthy  in  themselves,  they  are  graciously 
pronounced  righteous  by  their  heavenly  Judge,  on  ao 


RELIGION.  63 

count  of  what  the  Mediator  has  done.  Their  sins, 
though  many,  are  for  his  sake  forgiven  them.  They 
are  "  accepted  in  the  Beloved."  There  is  no  condemna 
tion  to  them  now ;  and  they  shall  find,  to  their  eternal 
joy,  that  there  is  both  safety  and  happiness  in  appear 
ing  clothed  in  the  righteousness  of  Him  who  loved  sin 
ners,  and  gave  himself  for  them,  in  "  robes  washed  and 
made  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

But  we  not  only  need  to  be  justified  by  the  righteous 
ness  of  Christ;  we  also  indispensably  need  to  be 
sanctified  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  We  are  by  nature 
polluted  as  well  as  guilty.  Accordingly  the  purifi 
cation  of  our  hearts,  as  well  as  the  pardon  of  our 
sins,  is  one  of  the  great  benefits  which  the  blessed  Re 
deemer  has  purchased  and  secured  by  covenant  to  all 
believers.  And  for  both  these  benefits  the  plan  of 
mercy  exhibited  in  the  Gospel  makes  equal  and  effec 
tual  provision.  "  Whom  he  justifies  them  he  also  sancti 
fies."  By  the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit  the  dominion 
of  sin  is  broken  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  are  brought 
under  the  power  of  the  Gospel.  The  dominion  of  cor 
ruption  in  the  soul  is  destroyed  ;  the  love  of  it  is  taken 
away  ;  and  though  not  perfectly  sanctified  in  the  pre 
sent  life,  yet  every  believer  has  his  sanctification  begun. 
And  it  is  carried  on,  not  by  his  own  wisdom  or  strength, 
but  by  the  same  divine  power  by  which  it  was  com 
menced  ;  until  he  is,  at  last,  made  perfectly  holy,  as 
well  as  perfectly  happy,  in  the  presence  of  his  God 
and  Saviour. 

Such,  my  dear  sons,  is  that  most  interesting  of  all 
messages,  which  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  brings  to 
all  who  hear  the  Gospel.  It  charges  us  with  being 
sinners — miserable  sinners  in  the  sight  of  God,  without 
merit,  without  strength,  and  without  hope  in  ourselves. 
It  freely  offers  us  peace,  and  pardon,  and  sanctification, 
and  eternal  life,  "  without  money  and  without  price," 
that  is,  as  a  free  unmerited  gift,  "  through  the  redemp 
tion  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  Its  language  is,  "  who 
soever  cometh  to  Him,  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out;" 


64  RELIGION. 

and  again,  "  whosoever  will,  let  him  come,  and  take  of 
the  water  of  life  freely."  It  calls  upon  you  to  re 
nounce  all  confidence  in  yourselves,  and  to  receive  and 
rest  on  Christ  alone  for  salvation,  as  he  is  freely  offered 
in  the  gospel.  To  this  end,  it  is  indispensable  that 
you  be  convinced  of  sin  ;  that  you  feel  a  deep  and 
cordial  sense  of  your  own  sinfulness  and  unworthiness  ; 
that  you  despair  of  saving  yourselves  ;  that  you  fall  at 
the  footstool  of  sovereign  grace,  feeling  that  you  de 
serve  to  die,  and  that  you  can  have  no  hope  but  in  the 
atoning  blood  and  sanctifying  Spirit  of  the  Redeemer. 
Until  you  are  prepared  to  accept  of  Him  with  such 
convictions,  and  in  this  character  ;  until  you  sincerely 
feel  that  you  have  nothing  to  plead  but  his  merit,  and 
humbly  and  gratefully  rely  on  his  grace  and  love 
for  all  that  you  need,  you  have  yet  to  learn  all  that  is 
practical  and  precious  of  this  holy  religion. 

Say  not,  that  our  sinning  and  falling  in  Adam,  and 
our  recovery  through  the  atoning  sacrifice  and  right 
eousness  of  another,  are  mysteries  which  you  cannot 
understand,  and  which  are  revolting  to  your  minds. 
Surely  it  ought  not  to  excite  surprise  or  wonder  in  a 
reasonable  being,  that  we  should  find  mysteries  in  a 
plan  of  salvation  contrived  and  made  known  by  an  in 
finite  and  incomprehensible  God.  But  "  let  God  be 
true,  and  every  man  a  liar."  What  I  have  stated  is 
plainly  the  doctrine  of  the  word  of  God  in  relation  to 
this  great  subject.  It  clearly  informs  us,  that  as  in 
Adarn  we  lost  our  innocence,  and  the  divine  favour,  so 
through  Christ,  who  is  styled  the  "  second  Adam,"  we 
regain  both  the  favour  and  image  of  God.  "  The 
mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it."  Let  this  suffice. 
Let  us  abhor  the  thought  of  being  found  "  fighting 
against  God." 

But  after  all,  do  you  ask,  of  what  great  value  is  this 
religion,  that  you  should  be  urged  with  so  much  im 
portunity  to  embrace  it  ?  I  hope  you  will  not  be  dis 
posed  to  ask  such  a  question ;  but  if  you  should  be,  let 
me  answer,  its  value  is  unspeakable,  is  infinite,  for  the 


RELIGION.  65 

present  world,  as  well  as  the  future ;  for  "  godliness  is 
profitable  unto  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the 
life  that  now  is,  as  well  as  of  that  which  is  to  come." 

True  religion  is  the  only  solid  basis  and  pledge  of 
good  morals.  I  do  not  say,  that  there  are  no  exam 
ples  of  unblemished  morals  among  those  who  are  not 
truly  religious.  Nor  do  I  mean  to  assert,  that  all  who 
claim  to  be  religious  are  correct  in  their  morals.  But 
my  meaning  is,  that  the  possession  of  true  religion  is 
the  only  sure  pledge,  the  only  effectual  guaranty  of 
sober  deportment,  of  pure  and  exemplary  morals,  espe 
cially  amidst  the  ardour  and  temptations  of  youth.  It 
is  a  common  maxim,  among  the  men  of  the  world,  that 
"  every  man  has  his  price."  It  cannot  be  denied,  that, 
independently  of  the  power  of  religion,  there  is  too 
much  reason  for  the  adoption  of  this  maxim.  No  one 
can  be  considered  as  safe  from  the  allurements  of  sen 
suality,  of  avarice,  or  of  ambition,  unless  fortified  by 
principles  drawn  from  the  power  and  grace  of  God. 
There  is  absolutely  no  security,  my  dear  sons,  in  any 
thing  short  of  this.  We  have  all  seen  young  men  of 
the  most  elevated  connections ;  of  the  finest  talents ; 
of  the  most  excellent  scholarship  ;  of  the  very  first 
general  promise  of  character ;  and  who  seemed  des 
tined  to  adorn  the  highest  stations ; — we  have  seen 
them  falling  into  habits  of  intemperance,  gambling, 
fraud,  lewdness,  or  some  other  degrading  moral  delin 
quency  ;  gradually  losing  their  reputation  ;  losing  their 
own  self-respect ;  and  either  consigned  by  their  vices 
to  premature  graves,  or  sunk,  through  the  whole  of 
their  course,  into  wretchedness  and  infamy.  When 
you  think  of  such  misguided  and  ruined  youth,  you 
may  be  ready  to  think,  and  to  say,  that  you  can  rely 
on  your  own  resolution  to  guard  against  such  a  ruinous 
course.  But  all  confidence  in  anything,  except  reli 
gion,  to  preserve  you  from  such  courses,  is  fallacious 
and  vain.  And  by  religion  here,  I  do  not  mean  merely 
a  profession  of  religion ;  for  that  will  be  no  effectual 
safeguard  to  any  one;  we  have  seen  professors,  of 
6* 


06  RELIGION. 

more  than  ordinary  apparent  zeal,  disgrace  themselves 
and  the  name  by  which  they  were  called.  But  I  mean 
the  possession  of  real  practical  religion — the  reli 
gion  of  the  heart.  This  is  a  real  security.  This  will 
hold  its  possessor  firmly  and  safely ;  and  amidst  all  the 
storms  of  life,  preserve  from  fatal  shipwreck.  We 
shall  never  hear  of  such  a  young  man,  that  he  has 
died  a  drunkard  ;  or  that  he  has  been  detected  in  base, 
mean,  or  swindling  practices ;  or  that  he  has  become 
the  companion  of  gamblers  and  blacklegs ;  or  that  he 
has  murdered  some  acquaintance,  or  been  murdered 
himself  in  a  duel ;  or  that  he  has  been  embarrassed 
and  degraded  by  some  licentious  connection.  No,  we 
shall  hear  no  such  tidings  of  any  such  youth.  He 
may  not  be  rich  ;  though  he  will  be  more  likely  to. suc 
ceed  in  his  temporal  affairs  than  any  other  person. 
He  may  not  be  crowned  with  a  large  amount  of  worldly 
honour  ;  though  the  probability  is,  that  he  will  be  more 
successful  in  this  respect  also,  than  the  most  of  those 
who  are  destitute  of  religious  principle.  But  he  will 
be  happy  while  he  does  live.  He  will  be  respected,  and 
beloved,  and  useful.  His  latter  end  will  be  peace; 
and  his  name  will  be  embalmed  in  the  memory  of  the 
wise  and  the  good,  while  the  name  of  the  wicked  shall 
rot. 

Further,  true  religion  is  the  only  adequate  comforter 
under  the  sorrows  and  trials  of  life.  These  will  come, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  all.  The  sanguine  young 
man  may,  indeed,  imagine,  in  the  buoyancy  of  hia 
hopes,  that  he  shall  never  see  sorrow ;  but  that  health, 
affluence,  and  pleasure  shall  mark  his  whole  course. 
But  if  he  "see  many  days,  and  rejoice  in  them  all,  let 
him  remember  the  days  of  darkness,  for  they  shall  be 
many."  There  will  be  seasons  of  gloom  and  adversity 
to  the  most  favoured.  In  those  seasons  where  will 
be  your  refuge  ?  Happy  are  those  who,  when  the  world 
frowns,  when  dangers  threaten,  when  health  gives  way, 
when  disappointments  arise,  can  look  up  to  a  reconciled 
God  and  Father ;  can  go  to  a  throne  of  grace,  and 


RELIGION.  67 

there  leave  every  interest  in  the  hands  of  infinite  wisdom 
and  goodness !  It  has  been  my  happiness  to  see  such 
young  men ;  to  see  them  adorning  and  enjoying  the 
college  to  which  you  belong  ;  and  the  recollection  of 
the  noble  spirit  and  character  which  they  presented,  is 
now  refreshing  to  the  mind,  especially  when  contrasted 
with  the  timidity,  the  weakness,  and  the  comfortless 
character  of  the  frivolous  throng  around  them,  in  cir 
cumstances  of  similar  trial.  Montesquieu  might  well 
say,  "How  admirable  is  that  religion  which,  while  it 
seems  only  to  have  in  view  the  felicity  of  another  world, 
constitutes  the  happiness  of  the  present !"  Sir  Hum 
phry  Davy,  born  in  poverty,  and  in  an  obscure  corner 
of  England,  was  raised  by  industry  and  merit,  unaided 
by  friends,  to  such  distinction,  that  he  was  chosen  at 
the  age  of  twenty-two,  to  fill  the  chair  of  chemistry  in 
the  u  Royal  Institution"  of  London.  A  few  years 
afterwards  he  was  elected  President  of  the  "  Koyal 
Society"  of  London,  and  stood  confessedly  at  the  head 
of  the  chemists  of  Europe.  His  testimony  in  favour 
of  the  consolations  of  religion  is  of  the  following  de 
cisive  character  :  "I  envy,"  says  he,  uno  quality  of 
the  mind  or  intellect  in  others  ;  not  genius,  power,  wit, 
or  fancy ;  but  if  I  could  choose  what  would  be  most 
delightful,  and,  I  believe,  most  useful  to  me,  I  should 
prefer  a  firm  religious  belief  to  every  other  blessing ; 
for  it  makes  life  a  discipline  of  goodness  ; — creates  new 
hopes  when  all  earthly  hopes  vanish  ; — throws  over  the 
'decay,  the  destruction  of  existence,  the  most  precious 
of  all  lights ; — awakens  life  even  in  death,  and  from 
corruption  and  decay  calls  up  beauty  and  divinity  ; — 
makes  an  instrument  of  torture  and  shame  the  ladder 
of  ascent  to  paradise  ; — and,  far  above  all  combinations 
of  earthly  hopes,  calls  up  the  most  delightful  visions 
of  palms  and  amaranths,  the  gardens  of  the  blessed, 
the  security  of  everlasting  joys,  when  the  sensualist 
and  the  sceptic  see  only  gloom,  decay  and  annihilation." 
His  last  work — "  Consolations  in  Travel,"  still  more 


68  KELIGION. 

fully  developes  his  highly  interesting  sentiments  on 
this  subject. 

Finally ;  true  religion  is  the  only  preparation  and 
security  for  future  and  eternal  blessedness.  Can  any 
thinking  being,  however  young  and  buoyant  in  spirit, 
forget  that  he  is  soon  to  die,  and  bid  farewell  to  all 
that  he  values  here  below  ?  and  that  this  event  may 
take  place  before  he  has  passed  the  age  of  adolescence  ? 
and  that,  of  course,  the  interests  of  eternity  are  in 
finitely  the  most  momentous  ?  What  is  the  body  to 
the  soul?  What  are  all  the  transient  joys  of  earth  to 
the  everlasting  treasures  of  heaven  ?  For  those  trea 
sures  and  joys  you  can  never  be  prepared,  unless  you 
have  a  taste  and  relish  for  them.  Even  if  a  holy  God 
had  not  declared  in  his  word,  that  "  without  holiness  no 
man  can  see  the  Lord,"  the  nature  of  the  case  would 
pronounce  the  same  decision.  No  one  can  be  happy 
but  in  his  appropriate  element.  To  imagine  that  any 
one  can  reach  and  enjoy  a  holy  heaven,  without  some 
degree  of  meetness  for  the  society  and  employments  of 
that  blessed  world,  is,  of  all  delusions,  one  of  the  most 
preposterous  and  miserable.  Our  title  to  heaven  is, 
as  you  have  heard,  what  the  Saviour  has  done  and 
suffered  for  us  as  our  surety.  But  our  indispensable 
preparation  for  heaven,  is  that  renewal  of  our  nature 
by  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  renders  the  presence  and 
glory  of  God  delightful  to  the  soul.  He  who  re 
mains  under  the  power  of  that  carnal  mind  which  is 
enmity  against  God,  can  be  happy  nowhere  in  the 
universe.  Even  if  he  could  overleap  the  walls  of  the 
celestial  paradise,  it  would  be  no  heaven  to  him.  He 
would  still  be  constrained  with  anguish  to  say — 
"  Where'er  I  go  is  hell,  myself  am  hell !" 

These  considerations,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  convince, 
have  convinced,  your  judgment  that  religion  is  worthy 
of  your  supreme  regard.  Its  claims  are  so  obviously 
reasonable  and  powerful,  that  they  can  never  be  re 
sisted  by  sober  reasoning.  But  there  is  no  delusion 
more  common  than  that  which  tempts  the  young  to 


RELIGION.  69 

postpone  all  attention  to  this  subject  to  a  future  period. 
Knowing  its  importance,  but  "  having  no  heart  for  it" 
at  present,  they  are  ready  from  day  to  day,  to  say  to 
the  serious  monitor — "  Go  thy  way  for  this  time,  when 
I  have  a  more  convenient  season  I  will  call  for  thee." 
Let  me  warn  you  against  this  procrastinating  spirit,  by 
which  so  many  have  been  deceived  and  ruined.  If 
religion  be  so  precious  as  a  guide,  as  a  comforter,  as  a 
pledge  of  temporal  prosperity  and  enjoyment,  and  a3 
the  indispensable  means  of  eternal  happiness — can 
you  begin  too  soon  to  enjoy  its  benefits  ?  If  "  the 
ways  of  wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her 
paths  peace,"  is  it  wise  to  say,  "Let  me  put  off  the 
attainment  of  this  happiness  to  a  future  period?" 
Surely  the  sooner  you  begin  to  enjoy  advantages  so 
radical  and  precious,  the  better.  Besides,  have  you 
any  assurance  that  you  will  live  to  that  age,  or  to  see 
that  concurrence  of  circumstances,  which  you  fondly 
imagine  will  be  more  favorable  to  engaging  in  a  life 
of  piety  than  the  present  time  ?  Not  long  since,  a 
graduate  of  one  of  our  colleges  was  heard  to  say — "  I 
have  finished  my  college  education.  I  will  now  devote 
two  years  to  the  study  of  a  profession  ;  and  then  I 
"will  take  one  year  to  see  what  there  is  in  that  mighty 
thing  they  call  religion."  So  calculated  this  blooming, 
sanguine  youth.  But  before  the  time  specified  had 
half  elapsed,  he  suddenly  fell  sick;  was  seized  with 
delirium  ;  and  expired  without  hope.  But  why  need 
I  resort  to  the  case  of  one  with  whom  you  had  no  per 
sonal  acquaintance  ?  Can  you  forget  your  own  beloved 
brothers  and  sisters,  removed  in  the  morning  of  life ; 
one  of  whom  was  cut  down  in  a  few  weeks  after  his 
graduation,  and  when  he  was  just  entering  on  a  course 
of  professional  study ;  and  another  at  a  still  earlier 
stage  of  his  education  ?  What  security  have  you  that 
you  will  live  to  see  another  year  ?  And  even  if  you 
could  be  certain  of  living  to  old  age,  what  reason  have 
you  to  hope,  if  you  go  on  neglecting  religion,  and 
hardening  yourselves  against  its  claims,  that  you  will 


TO  RELIGION. 

have  grace  given  you,  even  in  the  decline  of  life,  to 
"  consider  your  ways  ?"  0  how  many,  who  were  in 
youth  thoughtful  and  tender,  have  become  more  and 
more  callous  to  every  serious  impression,  as  they  ad 
vanced  in  life  ;  and  have  at  length  sunk  into  the  grave 
as  destitute  of  hope  as  ever  !  Be  entreated,  then,  my 
dear  sons,  now,  while  your  hearts  are  comparatively 
tender;  before  the  cares  of  the  world  have  entwined 
around  them  a  thousand  entanglements ;  before  you 
become  hardened  by  inveterate  habits  of  sin ;  be  en 
treated  to  make  choice  of  "  that  good  part  which  can 
never  be  taken  away  from  you." 

I  wish  it  were  in  my  power,  my  beloved  sons,  to  im 
part  to  you  such  views  of  this  subject,  as  I  am  sure  an 
enlightened  attention  to  facts  could  not  fail  to  give. 
Take  up  a  college  catalogue.  0,  it  is  a  most  instructive 
pamphlet !  It  affords  a  lively  comment  on  all  that  I 
have  told  you  about  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the 
folly  of  delaying  to  enter  on  the  duties  of  true  religion. 
Take  it  up,  and  look  at  the  asterisk — that  mournful 
mark  of  death,  which  stands  opposite  to  the  names  of 
so  many  who  received  the  honours  of  your  college, 
within  your  own  recollection.  How  some  of  them  died, 
I  am  not  able  to  tell  you  ;  but  others  departed,  lament 
ing  that  they  had  not  made  more  and  earlier  prepara 
tion  for  a  dying  hour,  and  that  their  time  had  been  so 
much  given  to  the  vanities  of  the  world.  Will  you  not 
profit  by  such  painful  examples  ?  "  0  that  you  were 
wise,  that  you  understood  these  things,  that  you  would 
consider  your  latter  end  !" 

If  you  ask  me,  how  that  piety  which  is  represented 
as  so  important,  is  to  be  attained,  I  answer,  it  is  not 
the  spontaneous  growth  of  our  nature.  It  is  that  to 
which  we  are  naturally  averse.  It  is  the  gift  of  God ; 
and  to  be  sought  in  the  diligent  use  of  those  means 
which  God  has  appointed  for  drawing  near  to  him. 
The  royal  Psalmist  asks — "  Wherewith  shall  a  young 
man  cleanse  his  way?"  And  his  answer  is,  uBy 
taking  heed  thereto  according  to  thy  word."  That  is, 


RELIGION.  71 

it  requires  sincere  and  solemn  application  of  mind  to 
the  subject,  without  which  no  one  has  a  right  to  hope 
that  he  shall  make  the  attainment. 

The  diligent  perusal  of  the  word  of  God  is  one  of 
the  most  obvious  and  important  of  the  means  of  grace. 
The  Bible  was  given  us  to  be  a  "  light  to  our  feet, 
and  a  lamp  to  our  path."  It  exhibits,  with  unerring 
fidelity,  every  enemy,  every  snare,  every  danger  which 
beset  your  path.  It  gives  all  the  information,  all  the 
warning,  all  the  caution,  and  all  the  encouragement 
which  you  need.  It  tells  you,  more  perfectly  than  any 
other  book,  all  that  you  have  to  fear,  and  all  that  you 
have  to  hope  for.  There  is  not  a  form  of  error  or  of 
corruption  against  which  it  does  riot  put  you  on  your 
guard  ;  not  an  excellence  or  a  duty  which  it  does  not  di 
rect  you  to  cultivate  and  attain.  No  one  ever  made  this 
holy  book  the  guide  of  his  life,  without  walking  wisely, 
safely  and  happily ;  without  finding  the  truest  enjoy 
ment  in  this  world,  and  eternal  blessedness  in  the  world 
to  come.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  Bible  is  not  only 
the  word  of  life.  It  is  not  only  that  wonderful  book 
which  was  sent  from  heaven  to  show  us  the  way  of 
salvation :  it  not  only  contains  the  glad  tidings  of  par 
don,  and  peace,  and  love,  and  glory  to  a  lost  world ; 
and  is,  of  course,  worthy  of  the  most  grateful  recep 
tion,  and  the  most  diligent  and  reverential  study ;  but 
there  is,  besides,  something  in  it  which  it  becomes 
every  aspirant  to  literary  reputation  duly  to  appreciate. 
It  is  full  of  the  noblest  specimens  of  literary  beauty, 
and  of  tender,  pathetic  eloquence,  that  the  world  ever 
saw.  There  is  something  in  it  better  adapted  to  touch 
the  finest  and  best  chords  of  human  sensibility,  to  reach 
and  sway  the  heart,  than  the  most  laboured  products 
of  rhetoric  that  the  skill  of  man  ever  formed.  I  have 
known  more  than  one  case,  in  which  secular  orators 
have  drawn  from  the  figures  and  the  language  of  the 
Bible  their  mightiest  weapons,  both  for  convincing  the 
judgment,  and  captivating  the  hearts  of  their  hearers  ; 
and  am  persuaded  that  he  who  does  not  study  hia 


72  RELIGION. 

Bible,  as  well  as  his  secular  authorities,  in  preparing 
for  public  life,  neglects  a  very  important  part  of  his 
education. 

And  in  reading  the  Bible,  I  hope  you  will  not  for 
get  that  it  is  to  be  read  with  feelings,  and  in  a  manner 
very  different  from  those  with  which  you  peruse  all 
other  books.  If  it  be  indeed  inspired  of  God,  and 
given  to  teach  us  the  way  of  salvation,  it  surely  ought 
to  be  read  with  serious  and  fixed  attention ;  with  un 
wearied  diligence  ;  with  deep  humility ;  with  candid 
application  to  your  own  heart  and  conscience ;  an<i 
with  devout  application  to  the  throne  of  grace,  that 
you  may  be  enabled  to  read  it  with  understanding  and 
with  profit.  Happy,  thrice  happy,  is  that  youth  who 
learns  to  go  to  the  Bible  for  all  his  sentiments,  princi 
ples,  and  rules  of  action ;  who  searches  its  sacred 
pages  daily  for  direction  in  his  pursuits,  for  guidance 
in  his  perplexities,  for  comfort  in  his  sorrows,  and  for 
help  in  every  time  of  need.  Such  have  the  best 
pledge  of  temporal  enjoyment,  and  of  eternal  blessed 
ness. 

Another  important  means  by  which  you  ought  to 
seek  the  favour  and  image  of  God,  is  prayer.  Need 
I  dwell  either  on  the  duty  or  reasonableness  of  this 
exercise  ?  If  wre  are  entirely  dependent  on  God  for 
every  temporal  and  spiritual  blessing,  then  it  is.  surely 
reasonable  that  we  should  acknowledge  our  dependence, 
and  apply  to  him  with  humility  and  earnestness  for 
his  aid.  If  his  favour  is  life,  and  his  blessings  the 
best  riches,  it  is  evident  that  we  ought  to  supplicate 
them  with  importunity  and  perseverance.  If  we  are 
sinners,  unworthy  of  the  divine  favour,  we  ought  to 
humble  ourselves  at  his  footstool,  and  make  confession 
of  our  sins  with  penitence,  and  a  sincere  desire  to  do 
better  in  time  to  come.  If  he  has  revealed  a  plan  of 
mercy  and  grace  to  us,  of  which  he  invites  and  com 
mands  us  to  avail  ourselves,  then  every  principle  of 
self-interest  concurs  with  reason  in  urging  us  to  seek 
with  earnestness  a  participation  in  that  mercy.  And 


RELIGION.  73 

if  our  Maker  and  Redeemer  has,  in  so  many  words, 
commanded  us  "by  prayer  and  supplication  with 
thanksgiving,  to  make  known  our  requests  to  God," 
who  can  question,  for  a  moment,  the  reasonableness  of 
a  compliance  with  that  command  ? 

I  am  afraid  that  many  a  youth  who  has  been  taught 
from  his  childhood  to  fear  God,  would  be  ashamed  to 
be  seen  bowing  his  knees  in  secret  before  that  Being 
whom  his  parents  supremely  love  and  venerate,  and 
by  whom  he  has  been  himself  protected  and  sustained 
ever  since  he  was  born.  Can  it  be  necessary  for  me  to 
demonstrate  to  you  that  this  is  a  shame  as  foolish,  as  in 
fatuated  as  it  is  criminal  ?  Ashamed  of  acknowledging 
your  Maker,  your  Sovereign,  your  constant  Benefactor, 
who  alone  can  make  you  happy,  either  in  this  world, 
or  the  world  to  come  !  0  what  insanity  is  here  !  It 
is  to  be  ashamed  of  your  true  glory.  A  shame,  the 
folly  and  infatuation  of  which  can  be  equalled  only  by 
that  which  is  manifested  by  the  old  as  well  as  the 
young,  viz.,  "glorying  in  their  shame." 

You  will  have  no  good  reason  to  expect  the  blessing 
of  God  on  your  persons,  your  studies,  or  any  of  your 
interests,  without  feeling  your  need  of  that  blessing, 
and  importunately  asking  for  it.  Let  no  day,  then, 
pass  without  at  least  two  seasons  of  prayer.  When  you 
rise  in  the  morning,  implore  the  guidance  and  benedic 
tion  of  heaven  on  all  the  employments  and  privileges 
of  the  day ;  for  you  know  not  what  may  occur  to  dis 
turb  your  peace,  or  endanger  your  character  or  im 
provement.  And  when  you  retire  to  rest  at  night,  ask 
for  the  protection  and  blessing  of  Him  who  neither 
slumbereth  nor  sleepeth,  over  the  repose  of  the  night- 
watches.  Nor  are  these  the  only  proper  objects  of 
petition.  Pray  for  your  instructors ;  that  they  may 
be  aided  in  their  official  work,  and  rewarded  for  all 
their  labours  of  love.  Pray  for  your  fellow-students ; 
that  they  may  be  imbued  with  a  love  of  knowledge, 
with  a  love  of  order,  and  with  all  those  fraternal  and 
honourable  dispositions  which  may  render  their  society 
7 


74  RELIGION. 

profitable  and  happy.  Rely  on  it,  the  more  you  pray, 
the  happier  you  will  be.  The  more  you  make  all 
around  you  the  objects  of  your  benevolent  petitions,  the 
more  pleasant  and  profitable  will  be  all  your  inter 
course  with  them. 

As  another  important  means  of  grace,  make  a  point 
of  attending  on  the  public  worship  of  God,  on  every 
Lord's  day,  as  well  as  on  every  other  occasion  when 
you  have  an  opportunity  so  to  do.  Let  no  pretext 
for  absenting  yourselves  from  the  house  of  God  ever 
be  admitted.  On  the  one  hand,  those  who  habitually 
neglect  it,  manifest  a  spirit  of  disregard  to  the  divine 
authority,  which  indicates  a  spirit  most  unpromising 
in  regard  to  their  spiritual  interest.  While,  on  the 
other  hand,  those  who  make  conscience  of  being  pre 
sent  with  the  people  of  God  whenever  they  are  assem 
bled,  manifest  a  reverence  for  his  name  and  his  wor 
ship,  which  we  have  reason  to  hope  will  issue  in  their 
happy  preparation  for  his  kingdom. 

Let  me  further  recommend  that  you  be  in  the  habit 
of  statedly  setting  apart  seasons  of  retirement,  medi 
tation,  and  self-examination  in  regard  to  your  spiritual 
interests.  I  once  heard  of  a  young  man  who  was  re 
markably  thoughtless  and  dissipated,  whose  father  in 
his  last  will  bequeathed  to  him  a  large  estate,  on  con 
dition  that  he  would,  for  so  many  years,  spend  half  an 
hour  every  morning  by  himself,  in  serious  reflection. 
The  young  man,  in  obedience  to  this  injunction,  began 
a  compliance  with  it.  At  first  it  was  a  most  unwel 
come  task,  to  which  he  forced  himself  as  a  means  of 
holding  his  property.  He  soon  submitted  to  it  with 
less  and  less  reluctance,  until  at  length  he  adhered  to 
it  of  choice,  and  became  a  truly  virtuous  and  pious 
man. 

The  only  other  means  of  attaining  the  knowledge 
and  love  of  God  which  I  shall  urge,  is  the  reverential 
observance  of  the  holy  Sabbath.  As  the  consecration 
of  this  day  to  rest  from  secular  labours,  and  to  the  ser 
vice  of  God,  is  one  of  the  most  important  means  of 


RELIGION.  T5 

keeping  the  world  in  order,  and  maintaining  the  reign 
of  religion  among  men  ;  so  the  profanation  of  this  day, 
is  one  of  those  sins  which  tend  pre-eminently  to  banish 
religious  sentiments  from  the  mind,  and  to  draw  down 
the  curse  of  heaven,  both  on  individuals  and  society. 
There  can  be  little  hope,  either  of  the  success  or  the 
happiness  of  that  individual,  or  that  community,  who 
habitually  trample  on  that  day  which  God  has  set  apart 
for  himself.  The  celebrated  Lord  Chief  Justice  Hale, 
equally  distinguished  as  a  jurist  and  a  Christian,  has 
left  on  record,  "  that  he  never  prospered  in  any  secu 
lar  employment,  unless  it  were  a  work  of  necessity  or 
mercy,  undertaken  on  the  Sabbath ;  and,  on  the  con 
trary,  that  the  more  closely  he  applied  himself  to  the 
appropriate  duties  of  that  holy  day,  the  more  happy 
and  successful  were  all  the  business  and  employments 
of  the  week  following."  The  same,  I  am  persuaded, 
will  be  the  experience  of  every  one  who  pays  attention 
enough  to  this  subject  to  mark  the  facts  which  occur  in 
his  own  case.  If,  therefore,  I  were  to  hear  that  you 
were  in  the  habit  of  pursuing  your  ordinary  studies  on 
the  Sabbath,  or  of  engaging  in  the  secular  amusements 
in  which  many  profanely  indulge  on  that  day,  I  should 
expect  to  hear  little  good,  either  of  your  moral  or  reli 
gious  character,  and  should  have  little  hope  of  your 
ultimate  success,  even  in  your  intellectual  pursuits. 
Rely  upon  it,  you  will  never  gain  by  robbing  God,  or 
by  profaning  any  of  his  institutions. 

My  dear  sons,  consider  these  things.  The  blessing 
of  God  is  the  best  riches,  and  he  addeth  no  sorrow  with 
it.  That  blessing  can  never  be  expected,  unless  you 
sincerely  seek  and  attain  true  religion.  "  It  is,  there 
fore,  not  a  vain  thing  for  you ;  it  is  your  life."  Upon 
this  hangs  everything  precious,  everything  truly  valu 
able  for  both  worlds.  There  have,  indeed,  been  in 
stances  of  men,  who  had  no  religion,  enjoying  much  tem 
poral  aggrandizement,  and  no  small  degree  of  honour 
among  men.  But  how  much  happier  would  they  have 
been,  and  how  much  more  solid  honour  and  confidence 


76  RELIGION. 

might  they  have  enjoyed,  had  they  heen  sincere  Chris 
tians,  living  habitually  under  the  influence,  and  enjoy 
ing  the  consolations,  of  the  gospel  of  Christ !  Sir  Wal 
ter  Scott,  and  even  the  cold-blooded  infidel,  Byron, 
each  attained  a  distinction  in  his  day,  which  many  a  youth 
has  been  tempted  to  envy.  But  was  either  of  them  a 
happy  man  ?  Especially  was  not  the  author  of  "  Childe 
Harold''  regarded  by  every  sober-minded  contemporary, 
as,  with  all  his  talents,  no  better  than  a  fiend  incar 
nate?  And  when  we  come  to  the  death-bed  of  both, 
what  do  we  see  but  the  absence  of  that  hope  and  com 
fort  which  every  wise  man  desires  to  enjoy  in  his  last 
hour? 

My  dearly  beloved  sons !  You  must  one  day  be 
serious,  whether  you  will  or  not.  At  present  the  vani 
ties  of  the  world  may  absorb  your  attention,  and  hide 
more  important  objects  from  your  view.  But,  be  as 
sured,  the  time  is  approaching  when  you  will  see  things 
in  a  very  different  light.  The  fashion  of  this  world  is 
rapidly  passing  away.  Scenes  untried  and  awful  are 
about  to  open  before  you.  Death,  judgment  and  eter 
nity  are  hastening  on  apace.  Then,  when  the  sources 
of  earthly  comfort  are  dried  up  ;  when  heart  and  flesh 
begin  to  fail ;  when  you  are  about  to  bid  an  everlast 
ing  farewell  to  this  world,  and  all  its  vanities ;  then, 
if  not  before,  you  will  certainly  lament  the  want  of 
sober  consideration.  Then,  if  not  before,  you  will  cry 
out  in  the  bitterness  of  remorse,  u  0  that  I  had  been 
wise,  that  I  had  thought  of  this,  that  I  had  considered 
my  latter  end  !"  Here,  then,  I  must  leave  you,  "com 
mending  you  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  his  grace, 
which  is  able  to  enlighten  your  mind ;  to  give  you  an 
heart  to  serve  him  ;  and  to  prepare  you  for  an  inherit 
ance  amongst  all  them  that  are  sanctified." 


LETTER   VI. 


REBELLIONS. 


Ars  cujus  principium  est  mentiri,  medium  laborare,  finis 
poenitere.  ANON. 

-  Facilis  descensus  Averni  ; 
Sed  revocare  gradum, 


Hoc  opus,  hie  labor  est.        ^ENEID,  VI.  126. 

MY  DEAR  SONS  —  Though  you  have  never  been  wit 
nesses  of  one  of  those  grand  rebellions,  of  which  the 
history  of  our  college  has  furnished  some  examples, 
yet  you  have  seen  enough  of  the  elements  and  the  in 
ceptive  workings  of  such  insanity,  to  form  a  tolerable 
estimate  of  its  real  character.  And  I  think  I  may 
venture  to  say,  that  the  more  you  have  seen  of  the 
causes  and  spirit  of  such  lawless  outbreakings,  the 
less  you  have  respected  them,  and  the  more  you  have 
been  disposed  to  contemplate  their  fomentors  and  their 
conductors  with  mingled  feelings  of  contempt  and  ab 
horrence.  And  I  can  assure  you,  my  dear  sons,  if  it 
were  possible  to  impart  to  you  the  more  intimate  know 
ledge  that  I  have  had  of  the  commencement,  the  history, 
and  the  termination  of  all  such  scenes  as  have  occurred 
in  the  college  with  which  you  are  connected,  within  the 
last  forty  years,  your  impressions  of  their  folly  and 
wickedness  would  be  still  deeper  and  more  abhorrent. 

Few  things  are  more  adapted  to  show  both  the  in 
fatuation  and  the  atrocity  of  rebellions  in  college,  than 
recurring  to  the  origin  of  most  of  them.  A  great 
majority  of  them  arise  from  a  desire  on  the  part  of 
students,  otherwise  orderly,  to  shield  from  merited  dis- 
7*  (77) 


78  REBELLIONS. 

cipline  the  corrupt  and  profligate  of  their  fellows..  A 
few,  perhaps,  of  the  unprincipled  and  habitually  disor 
derly  students  have  justly  incurred  the  infliction  of 
severe  discipline — suspension,  or  expulsion  from  the 
institution.  The  delinquents  have,  it  may  be,  some 
talents,  much  impudence  ;  and  that  desperate  reck 
lessness  which  makes  them  anxious,  if  they  must  go,  to 
have  companions  both  in  crime  and  in  suffering.  A 
number  of  their  fellow  students,  perhaps  a  large  num 
ber,  are  fools  enough  to  be  made  the  dupes  of  these 
profligates  ;  to  make  a  common  cause  with  them,  and 
to  resolve  to  share  their  fate.  The  consequence  is, 
that  they  do  share  their  fate.  All  that  belong  to  the 
combination  are  sent  away  from  college  ;  and  are  so 
far  from  gaining  the  end  for  which  they  combined,  that 
the  result  is  permanent  and  hopeless  disgrace.  Such 
is  the  usual  history,  and  such  the  invariable  result  of 
college  rebellions.  In-  a  few  instances,  the  loss  of  life, 
either  to  some  of  the  rebels,  or  of  the  faculty,  has  been 
the  deplorable  consequence. 

Now,  in  this  whole  matter,  there  is  an  amount  of 
complicated  folly  and  wickedness,  which  it  is  not  easy 
to  measure.  For,  in  the  first  place,  as  to  the  original 
offenders,  in  whose  behalf  all  this  mischief  has  been 
perpetrated,  they  are  commonly  profligate  villains,  who 
ought  not  to  belong  to  any  decent  institution,  and 
whose  defence,  in  any  form,  is  infamy ;  villains  who, 
instead  of  being  undeservedly  or  too  hastily  visited 
with  discipline,  ought,  perhaps,  long  before  to  have 
been  sent  off  in  disgrace.  In  the  second  place,  every 
step  taken  by  this  combination,  is  a  high-handed  and 
peculiarly  criminal  opposition,  not  only  to  the  laws 
which  its  members  are  bound  to  obey,  but  to  a  faculty, 
as  it  were,  in  mass,  who  are  labouring  day  and  night 
to  promote  their  welfare,  and  who  are  individually  and 
collectively  distressed  by  the  insubordination.  And  in 
the  third  place,  it  is  an  act  of  wanton  and  voluntary 
suicide.  Those  who  combine  and  make  a  common 
cause  with  the  original  delinquents,  plunge  into  the 


REBELLIONS.  79 

gulf,  for  the  sake  of  those  who  have  neither  gene 
rosity  nor  honesty  enough  to  thank  them  for  the  sacri 
fice,  and  thus,  perhaps,  destroy  all  their  own  prospects 
for  life,  besides  inflicting  a  wound  on  the  hearts  of  pa 
rents  or  guardians  which  can  never  be  healed  on  this 
side  of  the  grave. 

Nor  is  this  all.  No  one  can  tell,  when  he  connects 
himself  with  a  scene  of  this  kind,  but  that  it  may  ter 
minate,  as  was  before  intimated,  in  the  loss  of  life. 
Many  months  have  not  elapsed,  since,  in  a  rebellion 
which  fook  place  in  the  university  of  a  neighbouring 
state,  a  beloved  and  highly  valued  professor  lost  his  life 
by  the  murderous  hand  of  a  profligate  student ;  and 
how  often  the  most  valuable  lives  have  been  put  in  im 
minent  danger  in  similar  scenes  of  insubordination  and 
violence,  he  who  is  even  tolerably  acquainted  with  their 
history,  well  knows.  How  infatuated,  then,  as  well  as 
criminal,  must  be  that  youth  who  allows  himself  to 
engage  in  a  plan  of  resistance  to  lawful  authority, 
which  he  cannot  but  know  may  terminate  in  the  de 
struction  of  his  own  life,  or  in  that  of  one  or  more 
other  individuals,  a  thousand  times  more  precious  to 
their  friends  and  to  the  community  than  his  own ! 

The  following  statement,  perfectly  in  point,  cannot 
fail  of  commanding  the  most  respectful  consideration 
from  every  reader  who  knows  the  high  character  of 
the  writer,  and  who  recollects  that  he  speaks  on  this 
subject  from  the  most  ample  experience.  The  vener 
able  writer  speaking  of  himself,  says : — 

"At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  left,  for  the  first  time, 
the  house  of  the  best  of  mothers,  to  go  to  Princeton 
College  ;  and  with  the  sincerest  resolution  to  fulfil  all 
her  anxious  wishes  in  his  behalf.  Towards  the  close 
of  the  first  session,  some  very  unworthy  }roung  men 
were  dismissed.  They  contrived,  however,  to  impose 
upon  the  great  body  of  the  others,  and  to  induce  them 
to  believe  that  they  were  most  unjustly  and  cruelly 
treated.  What  was  called  a  petition  was  gotten  up  in 
their  behalf,  and  offered  for  the  signatures  of  the  rest. 


80  REBELLIONS. 

Great  numbers  signed  it,  scarce  knowing  its  contents. 
It  proved  to  be  such  a  one  as  the  faculty  could  not 
with  propriety  listen  to,  or  allow  to  pass  unnoticed. 
We  were  required  to  withdraw  our  signatures ;  and  it 
was  so  managed  by  the  leaders  of  the  rebellion,  that 
the  college  was  broken  up  in  confusion,  and  all  returned 
home.  It  was  then  that  I  felt  the  excellence  of  mater 
nal  authority,  which  great  numbers  felt  not,  for  they 
did  not  return.  My  excellent  mother,  though  mild, 
yet  firm,  as  she  was  wont  to  be,  bade  me  go  back,  and 
make  atonement  for  the  evil  committed.  And  I  went, 
and  confessed  my  fault,  and  still  live  to  exhort  other 
parents,  and  other  sons  to  'go  and  do  likewise.'  As  a 
warning  to  the  young  men  of  our  land,  let  me  say,  that 
it  required  nearly  thirty  years  to  repair  the  injury  done 
to  that  institution,  by  that  proceeding  of  unreflecting 
and  misguided  youths.  Let  me  warn  them  to  beware 
how  they  ever  assemble  together  for  the  purpose  of 
consulting  how  to  redress  the  supposed  wrongs  of  their 
fellow-students;  and,  above  all,  how  they  set  their 
names  to  any  instrument  purporting  to  be  a  condem 
nation  of  those  in  authority.  Very  seldom,  indeed, 
will  the  faculty  mistake  in  their  judgments  concerning 
those  who  are  the  subjects  of  discipline.  All  of  those 
for  whom  the  petition  alluded  to  was  offered,  proved  to 
be  most  unworthy  characters ;  and  in  my  many  and 
extensive  journeys  throughout  the  length  and  breadth 
of  our  land,  since  that  time,  I  have  met  with  very 
many  of  those  who  were  most  zealous  in  the  cause,  but 
never  with  one  who  did  not  condemn  and  regret  the 
part  which  he  had  taken  in  it.'7* 

Such  is  the  faithful  testimony  of  an  eye  and  ear 
witness,  nay  of  a  deep  temporary  partaker  in  the  evil 
deplored.  I  also,  though  never,  at  any  period  of  my 
college  course,  a  participant  in  such  a  scene,  can  bear 

*  "  Religious  Education,"  a  tract  by  the  Right  Rev.  William 
Meade,  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  dio 
cese  of  Virginia. 


REBELLIONS.  81 

testimony  equally  explicit  and  to  the  same  amount. 
My  observation,  in  all  cases,  goes  to  establish  the  fol 
lowing  points : 

1.  I  have  never  known  the  rebels  to  carry  their 
point ;  that  is,  I  have  never  known  an  instance  in  which 
they  gained  the  object  for  which  they  combined.     One 
of  the  laws  of  our  college  is  in  the  following  words : 

"  If  any  clubs  or  combinations  of  the  students  shall 
at  any  time  take  place,  either  for  resisting  the  au 
thority  of  the  college,  interfering  in  its  government,  or 
for  executing  or  concealing  any  evil  or  disorderly  de 
sign,  every  student  concerned  in  such  combination, 
shall  be  considered  as  guilty  of  the  offence  which  was 
intended  ;  and  the  faculty  are  empowered  and  directed 
to  break  up  all  such  combinations  as  soon  as  discov 
ered,  and  to  inflict  a  severer  punishment  on  each  in 
dividual  than  if  the  offence  intended  had  been  com 
mitted  in  his  individual  capacity,  whatever  may  be  the 
number  concerned,  or  whatever  may  be  the  conse 
quence  to  the  college." 

This  law,  as  far  as  my  knowledge  extends,  has  been 
uniformly  acted  upon  in  our  college.  In  two  instances, 
within  my  recollection,  it  became  necessary  to  disband 
the  entire  body  of  the  students.  But  the  rebels  always 
went  home  without  attaining  their  object. 

2.  In  almost  all  cases — indeed  I  remember  no  real 
exception — the  leading  rebels  turned  out  not  only  un 
worthy,  but  profligate,  degraded  and  miserable.     The 
proud  contrivers  and  chief  conductors  of  insurrection 
against    college    authority,  may  glut  their    diabolical 
vengeance  ;  may  give  much  trouble  to  those  whom  they 
dislike ;  may  destroy  much    property  ;  nay,  may  de 
stroy  life.     But  one  thing  is  certain — their  own  infamy 
is   hopelessly   sealed.     Their  career  generally  shows 
that  the  frowns  of  man,  and  the  curse  of  God  rest  upon 
them  without  remedy.     If  I  could  but  give  you  the 
simple  unvarnished    history  of  a  few  of  these  mock 
heroes,  after  the  catastrophe  which  led  to  their  expul 
sion  from  college,  it  would  stand  in  the  place  of  a 


82  REBELLIONS. 

thousand  arguments  against  all  such  wicked  and  insane 
projects. 

3.  I  can  also  verify  the  statement  of  Bishop  Meade, 
that  I  have  never  known  any  student  who  had  the  re 
motest    connection  with    any    rebellious    combination, 
who  did  not  afterwards  deeply  regret  his  conduct,  and 
condemn  himself  for  it  without  reserve. 

4.  Had  you  been  trustees  of  our  college  as  long  as 
I  have  been,  (now  between  thirty  and  forty  years,) 
you  would  have  been  witnesses  of  some  of  the  most 
painful  conflicts,  connected  with  this  subject,  which 
can  well  be  encountered  by  men  who  have  a  paternal 
feeling  for  the  welfare  of  youth.     Young  men  who 
had  suffered   themselves  to  partake  in  the  unlawful 
and  disorganizing  combinations  which  have  been  de 
scribed,  and  had  been  subjected  to  the  sentence  of 
expulsion   from    the  college,  have  returned,  after  the 
lapse  of  twenty  years  and  more,  and  earnestly  re 
quested — not  indeed  to  be  received  again  as  students 
— but  to  have  the  sentence  of  expulsion  revoked,  and 
the  painful  record  of  their  disgrace  borne  by  the  col 
lege  records  obliterated.     You  may  well  suppose  that 
a  board  made  up  of  serious  benevolent  men,  ready  to 
take  every  obstacle  which  they  conscientiously  could 
out  of  the  way  of  a  returning  penitent,  would  feel  no 
little  pain  in  denying  such  a  request  from  one  who 
appeared   to   come  with  a  proper  spirit,  and  who  had 
done  all  he  could  to  atone  for  his  crime  by  the  sober 
and  exemplary  living  of  many  years.     But  it  was  im 
possible    to    comply  with   such    a   request.     As   well 
might  a  man  who  had  been  convicted  of  theft  or  for 
gery,  by  a  court  of  justice,  twenty  years  ago,  but  had 
ever  since,  after  suffering  the  penalty  of  the  law,  mani 
fested  a  penitent  and  blameless  life — come  and  ask 
the  court  to  revoke  its  sentence,  and  expunge  its  record 
of  his  crime  and  conviction.     The  reply  of  Chief  Jus 
tice  Hale,  when  importuned  to  have  mercy  on  a  weep 
ing  culprit,  was  a  just  and  noble  one — "  While  I  wish 
to^show  mercy  to  him,  I  feel  bound  also  to  have  mercy 


REBELLIONS.  83 

on  my  country."  What  would  become  of  a  college 
•which  should  consent  thus  to  reverse  her  sentences, 
and  whitewash  the  traitors  who  had  striven  to  destroy 
her  ?  Her  authority  would  soon  be  despised,  and  her 
discipline  a  nullity.  "  The  way  of  transgressors  is 
indeed  hard,"  and  one  of  the  many  proofs  of  this  is, 
that  from  the  bitter  consequences  of  many  sins  the 
culprits  can  never  escape.  The  grave  may  hide  their 
bodies  from  view  ;  but  the  memory  of  their  crimes  and 
their  shame  will  be  as  imperishable  as  the  records  of 
justice  can  make  them. 

You  are  now,  I  trust,  my  dear  sons,  after  pondering 
on  what  has  been  said  on  this  subject,  in  some  mea 
sure  prepared  to  receive  and  profit  by  the  paternal 
counsels  which  naturally  flow  from  the  foregoing  con 
siderations.  They  are  these : 

1.  Always  take  for  granted   that  the  faculty  are 
right  in  their  requisition  and  in  their  discipline.     They 
are  commonly  better  informed  than   any  one   of  the 
students,  perhaps  than  all  of  them  put  together.     They 
are  far  better  judges  than  the  students  can  be,  as  to 
what  is  safe  arid  proper,  and  tends  to  the  real  good 
of  the  institution.     They  are  far  more  impartial  than 
the  subjects  of  discipline  are  likely  to  be.     And  they 
are  incomparably  more  attached  to  the  interests  of  the 
college,  than  you  or  any  other  student.     It  will,  there 
fore,  be,  on  every  account,  safest  and  wisest  always  to 
take  for  granted,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  they  are 
right ;  arid  that  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  obey. 
The    exceptions  to   this  fixed   principle  will  ever  be 
found  so  "  few  and  far  between,"  that  it  may  be  safely 
assumed  as  a  maxim  that  will  seldom  fail. 

2.  Never  listen  to  the  complaints  or  the  accusations 
of  such  of  your  fellow  students  as  have  been  visited 
with  the  lash  of  discipline.     You  may  rest  assured  that 
nothing  of  this  kind  comes  upon  any  young  man  with 
out  a  cause.     Turn  away  from  his  story.     Encourage 
him  not.     Allow  him  not  for  one  moment  to  imagine 
that   he   has   gained  either  your  confidence  or  youi 
approbation. 


84  REBELLIONS. 

3.  Never  attend  any  meeting  of  students  called  to 
petition  for  a  redress  of  grievances  at  the  hand  of  the 
faculty,  unless  it  be,  with  dignified  independence,  to 
remonstrate  in  toto,  and  on  principle,  against  the  mea 
sure.     A  redress  of  grievances,  if  such  really  exist, 
will  be  much  more  likely  to  be  obtained  by  the  private 
application  of  a  few  orderly  students,  than  by  a  public 
and  noisy  combination.     Put  your  name  to  no  paper 
creating  or   encouraging   any   such  combination.     It 
may  appear  harmless  and  even  commendable  at  first, 
but  you  know  not  to  what  it  may  grow.     "  The  begin 
ning  of  evil  is  like  the  letting  out  of  water."     That 
which  appeared  in  the  commencement  a  small  and  per 
fectly  manageable  rill,  may  soon  become  an  overwhelm 
ing  torrent,  and  bear  away  all  before  it. 

4.  Never  let  it  be  borne  to  future  times  by  the  re 
cords  of  Nassau  Hall,  that  a  son  of  your  parents  had 
affixed  to  his  name,  and  to  theirs,  the  stigma,  that  he 
had  risen  in  rebellion  against  his  Alma  Mater,  and 
had    suffered    the    only  capital   punishment   which   a 
treason  so  base  could  incur — expulsion. 

There  are,  no  doubt,  other  sources  and  forms  of  re 
bellion  than  those  which  have  been  specified ;  but  they 
may  all  be  reduced  to  the  same  general  principles,  and 
may  all  with  propriety  be  treated  in  the  same  general 
manner.  Sometimes  they  originate  in  dissatisfaction 
with  the  diet  in  the  public  refectory ;  sometimes  from 
the  extent  of  the  lessons  assigned  to  the  several 
classes  ;  and  again,  at  other  times,  from  the  refusal  of 
some  solicited  privilege  or  indulgence.  Now  it  would 
be  wrong  to  assert  that  the  faculty  of  any  college  is 
infallible,  or  that  either  their  interdicts  or  their  pre 
scriptions  are  always,  of  course,  to  be  considered  as 
right.  But  the  fact  is,  that,  even  if,  from  error  in 
judgment,  they  should  sometimes  happen  to  be  wrong, 
it  is  a  much  smaller  evil,  in  practice,  to  assume  that 
in  any  given  case  they  are  right,  and  to  decide  and 
act  accordingly,  than  to  allow  the  students  to  sit  in 
judgment  upon  their  decisions  and  doings,  and  thus 


REBELLIONS.  85 

to  be  judges  and  jurymen  in  their  own  cause.  The 
most  learned  and  conscientious  jurists  presiding  in  a 
civil  court,  may  decide  erroneously.  But  suppose 
they  do,  what  is  the  appropriate  remedy  ?  To  raise  a 
mob  in  the  court-house  ?  to  explode  gunpowder  among 
the  multitude,  at  the  risk  of  life  ?  and  to  destroy  the 
chairs,  tables,  and  other  furniture  of  the  building? 
Would  any  of  these  either  rectify  the  error  in  ques 
tion,  or  promote  the  cause  of  substantial  justice  ?  The 
very  suggestion  of  such  a  method  of  redress  is  at  once- 
contemptible  and  shocking ;  and  those  who  should  re 
sort  to  it,  would  be  deemed  a  set  of  sill}7  infatuated 
savages.  If  the  decision  complained  of  is  to  be  re 
versed,  the  reversal  is  to  be  obtained  by  other  and 
more  peaceable  measures.  All  the  violence  tends  but 
to  mischief,  and  must  be  severely  punished,  or  there 
will  be  an  end  of  order  and  of  justice. 

Precisely  such  are  the  principles  which  ought  to  be 
laid  down  concerning  the  decisions  of  a  college  faculty. 
They  are  probably  right ;  but,  whether  right  or  wrong, 
the  very  worst  judges  in  the  case  are  the  rash,  inexpe 
rienced,  and  headstrong  subjects  of  discipline.  If 
every  wayward  child  is  permitted  to  review  and  reverse 
the  sentences  of  wise  and  faithful  parents,  it  is  plain 
that  domestic  government  and  order  will  soon  cease, 
and  all  parties  be  less  safe  and  less  happy.  If  unwise 
or  oppressive  measures  on  the  part  of  the  immediate 
government  of  a  college  are  supposed  by  the  reflecting 
and  orderly  portion  of  the  pupils  to  exist,  the  only 
measures  which  ought  to  be  thought  of  are  two ;  one,  to 
send  a  small  and  respectful  committee,  made  up  of  two 
or  three  of  the  students  known  to  be  among  the  most 
respected  and  confided  in  by  the  faculty,  to  present  the 
humble  statement  and  request  of  the  whole  body ;  and 
if  this  be  not  successful,  the  second  step  should  be  to 
appeal  to  the  board  of  trustees.  If  by  neither  of 
these  methods  the  object  of  the  complainants  can  be 
obtained,  the  presumption  is,  either  that  the  evils  com 
plained  of  are  imaginary,  or  that,  for  the  time  being, 
8 


86  REBELLIONS. 

they  do  not  admit  of  a  remedy.  I  have  no  recollection 
of  any  case  in  which  an  appeal  to  the  board  of  trustees 
•was  followed  with  success  to  the  appellants.  The  truth 
is,  the  faculty  of  every  college  are  always  under  the 
temptation  to  go  as  far  as  they  possibly  can,  consist 
ently  with  duty,  to  gratify  the  students.  Their  own 
popularity  and  ease  will,  of  course,  in  ordinary  cases, 
induce  to  this.  Seldom  indeed  will  a  calm  and  impar 
tial  body  of  guardians,  having  nothing  to  do  with 
immediate  instruction,  lean  more  than  they  to  the  side 
of  indulgence. 

There  is  a  species  of  conduct  on  the  part  of  students 
which  sometimes  occurs,  which  may,  perhaps,  be  as 
appropriately  mentioned  in  this  letter  as  in  any  other. 
I  refer  to  the  case  of  those  students  who,  in  their  own 
estimation,  and  in  that  of  their  friends,  are  considered 
as  having  high  claims  to  distinguished  rank  in  the 
assignment  of  college  honours  :  and  when  honours  ade 
quate  to  their  expectations  are  not  awarded  to  them, 
undertake  to  resent  it  as  gross  injustice,  and  either 
attempt  to  excite  a  mutiny  in  their  behalf,  or  decline 
to  receive  the  honour  assigned  them,  and  perhaps  even 
refuse  to  speak  at  all  at  the  ensuing  commencement, 
and  forfeit  their  graduation  altogether.  There  is  in 
all  this  an  arrogance  and  presumption  unworthy  of 
young  gentlemen  approaching  the  age  of  manhood. 
Who  are  the  best  judges  of  a  student's  proper  merits 
and  rank — himself,  or  the  faculty,  who  have  been 
watching  over  him,  and  labouring  with  him  for  years  ? 
It  is  very  possible,  indeed,  that  a  faculty  may  be  guilty 
of  great  injustice  in  this  matter.  From  some  cause,  and 
perhaps  not  a  very  laudable  one,  they  may  award  to  a 
candidate  for  graduation  a  rank  decisively  below  that 
to  which  he  is  fairly  entitled.  But  what  then  ?  Is  he 
or  the  faculty  the  regularly  constituted  judge  in  the 
case  ?  Every  one  knows  it  is  the  faculty.  Will  he  be 
likely,  then,  to  gain  anything  by  resenting  their  award, 
or  refusing  to  submit  to  it  ?  I  will  not  venture  to  pro 
nounce  that  no  degree  of  injustice  can  warrant  a  stu- 


REBELLIONS.  87 

dent  in  refusing  to  submit  to  it.  But  I  have  no  recol 
lection  of  having  ever  known  such  a  case.  Amidst  all 
the  instances  of  insubordinate  conduct  on  such  occa 
sions  which  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  I  have  never 
known  one  case  in  which  the  student  who  adopted  this 
course  gained  any  advantage  by  it.  They  have,  in 
every  case,  lost  the  object  which  they  sought,  and  been 
regarded  by  all  their  enlightened  and  impartial  friends 
as  acting  an  unwise  part. 


LETTER  VII. 

HEALTH. 

"Non  est  vivere,  sed  valere  vita. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — I  need  not  say  a  word  to  you  of 
the  value  of  health.  All  know  it.  All  acknowledge 
it.  If  I  were  to  attempt  formally  to  prove  it,  you 
would  consider  me  as  undertaking  a  needless  task. 
And  yet  a  large  portion  of  mankind,  and  especially  of 
the  young,  appear  to  be  so  unmindful  of  the  value  of 
this  blessing,  and  so  reckless  of  its  preservation,  that 
there  is  hardly  any  subject  in  regard  to  which  unceas 
ing  lessons  are  more  needed,  or  are  given  from  time  to 
time  with  less  benefit. 

I  once  felt  inclined  to  enter  into  cautions  and  coun 
sels  on  this  subject  very  much  in  detail ;  but  a  growing 
impression  of  the  difficulty  of  doing  justice  to  it,  and  a 
fear  of  doing  mischief  by  multiplying  advices  respect 
ing  it,  induce  me  to  be  much  more  brief  than  I  originally 
intended.  All  that  I  shall  attempt  is  to  give  a  few 
brief  hints,  which  I  hope  will  not  be  in  vain  ;  but 
which,  at  the  same  time,  I  fear  you  will  not  appreciate 
as  you  ought,  until  the  unhappy  consequences  of  re 
jecting  them  shall  practically  impress  them  on  your 
minds. 

There  are  two  extremes  on  this  subject,  to  which 
young  men  are  prone  ;  against  both  I  am  earnestly  de 
sirous  of  guarding  you.  The  one  is  to  imagine  that  the 
citadel  of  their  health  is  impregnable  ;  that  no  care  of 
it  is  necessary ;  that  they  may  take  any  liberties  with 
it,  and  lay  any  burdens  upon  it  that  they  please.  This 
mistake  leads  to  unlimited  exposure,  and  an  utter  dis- 
(88) 


HEALTH.  89 

regard  of  all  care  and  caution  in  avoiding  the  sources 
of  disease.  Hence  it  has  happened  that  some  of  the 
most  Herculean  young  men  I  have  ever  known,  have 
been  among  the  most  short-lived ;  simply  because  they 
had  so  much  confidence  in  their  health  and  strength, 
and  were  so  persuaded  that  they  could  bear  anything, 
that  they  took  no  care  of  themselves,  until  the  finest 
constitutions  were  wrecked  and  destroyed.  Some  of 
the  most  striking  examples  of  this  have  occurred,  not 
only  in  Nassau  Hall,  but  also  in  the  classes  with  which 
you  are  familiar ;  examples  to  which  I  cannot  refer 
without  the  most  mournful  recollections. 

The  other  extreme  to  which  I  alluded,  is  that  of  those 
who  imagine  that  great  scrupulousness  of  attention,  and 
the  most  vigilant  care  of  health,  are  necessary  to  its 
preservation ;  that  a  multitude  of  rigid  cautions,  a  fre 
quent  resort  to  medicine,  guarding  against  all  exposure 
to  cold  and  damp  weather ;  close  and  warm  rooms, 
much  wrapping  up,  &c.  &c.,  are  indispensable.  The 
young  man  who  acts  upon  this  plan,  will  probably  soon 
render  himself  a  miserable  invalid  for  life,  if  he  do  not 
speedily  cut  short  his  days.  The  truth  is,  that  in  this, 
as  in  a  thousand  other  things,  we  may  err  as  much,  and 
as  fatally,  in  over-doing  as  in  under-doing ;  and  the 
path  of  wisdom  is  that  of  a  happy  medium  between 
extremes. 

There  are  some  general  principles  in  the  preserva 
tion  of  health,  to  which  I  am  earnestly  desirous  of 
directing  your  attention,  and  which,  when  they  are  re 
garded  with  enlightened  and  discriminating  care,  may 
be  considered  as  comprehending  all  others.  Of  these 
general  principles,  I  shall  now  trouble  you  with  only 
four,  viz : — Be  strictly  temperate  with  regard  to  ali 
ment.  Take,  every  day,  a  large  amount  of  gentle 
exercise.  Carefully  guard  against  all  intestinal  con 
stipation.  And  always  avoid  too  much  warmth,  both  in 
your  clothing  and  your  apartment,  quite  as  vigilantly 
as  you  do  too  much  exposure  to  cold. 

1.  With  regard  to  the  first,  remember  that  temper- 
8* 


90  HEALTH. 

ate  eating  in  you,  is  a  very  different  thing  from  what 
it  is  in  a  day-labourer.  The  latter  may,  in  common, 
safely  and  even  profitably,  take  two  or  three  times  the 
amount  of  aliment,  that  can  be  ventured  upon  by  a 
student,  or  by  any  sedentary  person.  If  a  given  por 
tion  of  solid  food  be  found  to  oppress  you,  gradually 
diminish  the  quantity,  carefully  watching  the  effect, 
until  you  ascertain  the  quantity  which  is  best  suited  to 
your  constitution,  and  after  taking  which  you  feel  most 
vigorous,  active  and  comfortable,  both  in  body  and  mind. 
It  is  plain  that  this  matter  can  be  regulated  only  by 
the  individual  himself;  and  that  it  requires  daily  watch 
fulness  and  resolution.  Many  students,  I  have  no 
doubt,  injure  their  health,  and  some  bring  themselves, 
I  am  persuaded,  to  premature  graves,  by  over-eating, 
as  really  as  others  do  by  over-drinking.  The  effects 
of  the  former  species  of  excess  are  not  quite  so  mani 
fest,  or  quite  so  disreputable  as  those  of  the  latter  ; 
but,  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  they  are  no  less  fatal. 
And  especially  ought  this  strict  guard,  as  to  the  quan 
tity  and  quality  of  the  aliment  taken,  to  be  exercised 
by  those  who  cannot  be  persuaded  to  take  the  requisite 
amount  of  bodily  exercise.  To  eat  without  restraint, 
while  the  latter  is  neglected,  is  perfect  madness.  The 
answer  of  Sir  Charles  Scarborough,  physician  to  Charles 
II.,  to  one  of  the  courtiers  of  that  monarch,  is  worthy 
of  being  remembered — "You  must  eat  less,  or  take 
more  exercise,  or  take  physic,  or  be  sick.''  This  enr 
lightened  man,  physician  to  a  profligate  king,  and  a 
no  less  profligate  court,  presented  the  only  alternatives 
by  which  the  safety  of  our  bodily  condition  can  be 
secured.  If  I  had  a  thousand  voices,  I  would  proclaim 
this  response  in  every  college,  and  to  every  studious 
young  man  in  the  land.  However  little  it  may  be  re 
garded,  the  diet  of  a  student  is  of  more  importance 
than  can  easily  be  described.  It  ought  always  to  be 
simple.  Luxuries,  and  especially  a  multiplicity  of  arti 
ficial  dishes,  and  the  refinements  of  confectionery, 
ought  to  be  avoided  with  sacred  care.  Dr.  Franklin 


HEALTH.  91 

always  lived  on  the  simplest  food,  and  with  the  strictest 
guard  against  every  inordinate  indulgence.  We  are 
also  told  that  his  habit  was  to  go  without  his  dinner 
one  day  in  every  week.  This  he  called  "  giving  nature 
a  holiday ;"  that  his  stomach  might  not  be  injured  by 
being  kept  too  constantly  at  hard  work. 

If  at  any  time  you  feel  unwell,  stop  eating  until  you 
are  better.  This  was  the  practice  of  Bacon,  of  Napo 
leon,  and  of  a  host  of  other  eminent  men,  with  whose 
histories  we  are  familiar.  When  they  were  attacked 
with  feverish  feelings,  they  either  fasted  strictly,  for 
twenty-four  or  even  forty-eight  hours ;  or  at  any  rate, 
took  nothing  but  a  few  spoonfuls  of  some  simple  liquid 
to  sustain  nature,  and  to  allay  the  importunity  of  hun 
ger,  until  their  morbid  sensations  were  removed.  Few 
people  are  aware  that,  when  they  are  sick,  food  does 
them  little  or  no  good,  or  rather  only  adds  to  the  burden 
of  the  febrile  affection.  I  have  no  doubt  that  a  large 
portion  of  diseases,  and  especially  of  those  which  attack 
the  youthful  frame,  where  there  is  no  morbid  diathesis 
of  a  chronic  character,  would  readily  yield  to  a  day  or 
two  of  rigid  fasting  alone.  It  is  because  few  people 
can  endure  the  self-denial  requisite  for  this  purpose, 
that  they  prefer  the  removal  of  their  ailments  by  the 
extemporaneous  application  of  the  lancet,  or  the  stores 
of  the  materiel  medica.  This  is  a  very  impolitic  plan 
of  procedure.  It  is  violently  interfering  with  the  regu 
lar  order  of  our  frame,  when  the  vis  medicatrix  naturce, 
if  left  to  itself,  would  do  the  work  much  better.  These 
remarks  are  of  course  not  intended  to  apply  to  cases  of 
violent  attacks  of  inflammatory  disease,  where  conges 
tion,  or  lesion  in  vital  organs,  indicated  by  much  pain,  is 
to  be  apprehended  ;  but  chiefly  to  those  cases  in  which 
obscure  feverish  feelings  indicate  the  approach,  rather 
than  the  decisive  onset  of  disease.  In  cases  which  mark 
the  approach,  or  the  actual  attack  of  acute  disease,  med 
ical  advice  ought  to  be  sought  without  loss  of  time. 

2.  The  importance  of  taking  a  large  portion  of  gen 
tle   exercise   every  day,  can   scarcely  be   overrated. 


92  HEALTH. 

Every  student  who  wishes  to  preserve  good  health  and 
spirits,  ought  to  be  moving  about  in  the  open  air  from 
three  to  four  hours  daily.  You  may  live  with  less, 
and,  possibly,  enjoy  tolerable  health.  But  if  you 
wish  fully  to  DOSSCSS  the  mens  sana  in  corpore  sano, 
of  which  the  Latin  poet  speaks,  rely  upon  it,  with 
most  students,  less  will  not  answer.  I  have  said  that 
your  exercise  ought  to  be  gentle.  Some  students, 
after  exhausting  themselves  by  a  protracted  period  of 
severe  study  of  some  hours,  start  from  their  seats, 
issue  forth,  and  engage  in  some  violent  exercise,  which 
throws  them  into  a  profuse  perspiration,  from  which 
they  can  scarcely  escape  with  impunity.  In  many 
such  cases,  they  had  much  better  have  continued  to 
sit  still.  After  coming  to  a  pause  in  my  exertion, 
and  resuming  my  seat,  I  have  found  it  difficult  to 
avoid  taking  cold,  unless  I  would  continue  the  perspi 
ration,  or  the  state  of  temperature  approaching  it,  by 
wrapping  myself  up  in  a  cloak,  and  remaining  so  until 
the  perspiration  had  entirely  subsided.  This  is  a  pre 
caution  which  is  troublesome,  and  will  be  submitted  to 
by  few. 

Your  exercise  ought  to  bear  strict  proportion  to 
your  constitution  and  your  habits.  Gentle  exercise, 
diffused  through  three  or  four  hours,  is  much  better 
adapted  to  a  sedentary  man,  than  a  concentration  of 
the  same  amount  of  muscular  motion,  within  a  single 
hour  or  less.  It  is  also  worthy  of  remark,  that  exer 
cise  taken  either  immediately  before,  or  immediately 
after  eating,  is  both  less  comfortable,  and  less  valu 
able,  than  if  at  least  an  hour  of  rest  be  suffered  to  in 
tervene.  No  prudent  traveller  will  feed  his  horse 
immediately  after  his  arrival  at  the  place  of  baiting ; 
or,  if  he  can  avoid  it,  put  him  on  the  road  again  as 
soon  as  he  has  swallowed  his  food.  The  same  principle 
applies  to  all  animal  nature. 

But  there  is  a  class  of  cases,  in  regard  to  exercise, 
to  which  a  special  reference  ought  to  be  made  here. 
Sometimes  young  men  come  to  college,  who  have  been 


HEALTH.  93 

accustomed  to  active,  and,  it  may  be,  to  laborious 
lives  in  the  pure  air  of  the  country,  and  who  commence 
study  with  firm  and  florid  health.  Scarcely  any,  in 
this  situation,  are  fully  aware  of  the  danger  they  en 
counter  in  sitting  down  to  close  intellectual  application. 
I  have  often  known  a  constitution  the  most  robust, 
suddenly  to  give  way,  in  six  or  nine  months  after  this 
change  of  habit,  and  become  utterly  broken  and  pros 
trated.  The  truth  is,  a  young  man  of  the  most  robust 
and  florid  health,  who  addresses  himself  suddenly  to  a 
season  of  close  study,  is  more  apt — contrary  to  the 
common  impression — far  more  apt  to  suffer  severely 
from  close  mental  and  sedentary  occupation,  than  one 
of  a  more  lax  fibre,  and  long  accustomed  to  study.  I 
can  call  to  mind  some  of  the  most  melancholy  examples 
of  this  fact,  in  which,  from  not  being  apprised  of  the 
principle  which  it  involves,  the  calamity  came  on  al 
most  with  the  suddenness  and  violence  of  a  whirlwind, 
before  the  sufferers  were  aware. 

3.  My  third  advice  has  a  respect  to  intestinal  con 
stipation.     There  can   be  no   health,    where    this   is 
suffered  long  to  continue.     And  yet  it  is  a  point  to 
which  few  inexperienced  students  are  as  attentive   as 
they  ought  to  be.     They  either  neglect  it,  until  a  de 
cisive  indisposition  convinces  them   of  their  folly ;  or 
they  are  very  frequently  endeavouring  to  remove  it  by 
the  use  of  medicine.     Both  methods   of  treating  the 
difficulty  are  miserably  ill-judged.     Medicine  ought  to 
be  the  last  resort ;  and   is  seldom  necessary,    unless 
where  there  has  been  great  mismanagement.     Gentle 
exercise,  abstemiousness,  and  the  judicious  use  of  mild 
dietetical  aperients,  (which  are  different  with  different 
people,  and  must  be  matter  of  experiment,)  form  the 
system  which  a  little  experience  will  show  you  to  be  the 
best.     If,  instead  of  this  course,  you  go  on  eating  as 
usual,  and  adhere  as  closely  to  your  seat  as   at  other 
times,  you  will  probably  not  escape  a  serious  indisposi 
tion. 

4.  The  temperature  of  your  room,  and  of  your  body, 


94  HEALTH. 

is  the-  last  of  the  general  principles  in  reference  to 
health,  to  which  I  shall  request  your  attention.  A 
student,  whose  robustness  is  almost  always  in  some  de 
gree  impaired  by  sedentary  habits,  ought  never  to  allow 
himself,  if  he  can  avoid  it,  to  sit  in  a  cold  room,  or  in 
a  current  of  cold  air.  I  think  I  have  known  some 
young  persons  to  contract  fatal  diseases  by  inadvert 
ently  allowing  themselves  to  occupy  such  a  situation 
even  for  a  short  time,  especially  when  heated.  But  it 
is  nearly,  if  not  quite,  as  unfriendly  to  health,  for  a 
student  to  allow  himself  to  be  overheated,  either  by 
the  atmosphere  of  a  room  excessively  warmed,  or  by 
too  great  a  load  of  clothing,  either  in  bed  or  out  of  it. 
Everything  of  this  kind  ought  to  be  carefully  avoided. 
So  far  as  my  own  experience  goes,  I  am  constrained  to 
say,  that  excessive  heat  has  been  quite  as  often  to  me 
the  source  of  disease,  as  excessive  cold.  He  who  is 
about  to  take  a  long  walk,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
has  an  opportunity  of  keeping  himself  warm  by  con 
stant,  vigorous  motion,  ought  just  as  carefully  to  avoid 
covering  himself  with  an  overcoat  while  his  walk  con 
tinues,  as  he  ought  to  be  to  avoid  sitting  in  a  cold 
place,  or  in  a  draft  of  air,  at  the  end  of  his  walk, 
without  it.  No  ceremony,  no  consideration  whatever, 
ought  to  prevent  his  avoiding  such  a  place,  in  such  cir 
cumstances,  with  the  most  scrupulous  decision. 

You  will  gather  from  the  foregoing  remarks,  that 
my  plan  for  preserving  health,  is  by  no  means  that  of 
tampering  with  medicines,  or  of  perpetual  nursing,  or 
wrapping  up,  and  avoiding  the  open  air ;  a  plan  much 
more  likely  to  make  a  valetudinarian,  than  a  man  of 
good  health ;  but  that  of  employing  wisely  and  vigi 
lantly  the  great  art  of  prevention.  Those  who  are 
already  favoured  with  good  health,  and  a  sound  con 
stitution,  ought  to  study  to  retain  the  blessings,  by 
avoiding  every  species  of  excess,  and  by  guarding 
against  every  approach  to  a  derangement  of  the  sys 
tem  ;  and,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  all  will  be  well. 

But  while  I  give  these  counsels  in  regard  to  tho 


HEALTH.  95 

general  health,  I  feel  that  there  is  no  less  need  of 
some  advices  concerning  particular  organs  of  the  body, 
which  are  exceedingly  apt  to  suffer  from  the  want  of 
skill  or  attention  in  their  management. 

There  is  no  organ  of  the  human  body  more  apt  to 
become  disordered  by  indiscreet  or  careless  use  than 
the  eyes.  What  with  protracted  night  studies,  the 
unskilful  use  of  candle  and  lamp-light,  the  reading  of 
much  small  and  indistinct  print,  and  the  prolonged 
and  overstrained  application  of  the  eyes  in  any  way, 
they  are  so  much  injured  by  many  students  before  they 
leave  college,  that  they  are,  in  a  great  measure,  dis 
abled  from  the  enjoyment  of  study  for  the  remainder 
of  their  lives.  It  is  well  known  that  the  justly  cele 
brated  President  Dwight,  by  the  excessive  use  of  his 
eyes  by  candle-light,  while  he  was  in  college,  brought 
on  a  disease  of  that  organ  from  which  he  never  re 
covered,  which  gave  him  much  pain,  and  compelled 
him  to  employ  the  eyes  of  others  in  a  large  part  of 
the  studies  of  his  subsequent  life. 

In  regard  to  this  subject  I  would  earnestly  recom 
mend  to  your  attention  the  following  counsels. 

Avoid  as  much  as  you  possibly  can  studying  by 
candle-light.  Begin  your  studies  with  the  dawn  of 
day,  and  improve  every  moment  of  day-light  that  you 
can  secure.  Study  at  a  late  hour  at  night  ought 
never  to  be  indulged  in  by  any  one  who  values  his 
health.  Two  hours'  sleep  before  midnight  are  worth 
three  if  not  four  after  it.  He  who  allows  himself  fre 
quently  to  remain  at  his  studies  after  ten  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  is  probably  laying  up  in  store  for  himself 
bitter  repentance. 

Further,  beware,  in  night  studies,  of  the  use  of  such 
lamps,  or  other  lights,  as,  by  means  of  reflectors,  pour 
an  intense  light  on  your  book  or  paper.  Lamps  or 
other  lights  of  this  kind,  furnished  with  shades,  while 
they  undoubtedly  shield  the  eyes  from  injury,  by  the 
direct  rays  of  light,  which  is  the  object  aimed  at,  are 
apt  to  do  much  more  injury,  by  rendering  the  reflected 


96  HEALTH. 

light  more  vivid  and  dazzling.  In  fact,  instead  of 
protecting  or  favouring  the  eyes,  they  are  apt  to  im 
pair  the  soundest  vision,  and  have  proved  in  many 
cases  extremely  hurtful.  If  a  shade  be  used  at  all,  it 
ought  not  to  be  placed  on  the  lamp  or  candlestick 
itself,  for  the  purpose  of  casting  the  light  down  with 
more  intensity ;  but  on  the  forehead  of  the  student, 
merely  to  prevent  the  direct  rays  of  light  from  striking 
on  his  eyes.  Indeed,  a  common  hat  itself  would  be 
one  of  the  best  screens  with  which  to  read  or  write  at 
night,  were  it  not  for  the  danger  of  keeping  the  head 
too  warm,  and  thus  laying  the  foundation  of  various 
countervailing  evils.  This  is  mentioned  only  for  the 
purpose  of  pointedly  warning  against  it.  A  very  light 
shade,  made  to  fasten  over  the  eyes,  without  covering 
the  head,  would  be  in  every  respect  preferable. 

Let  me  advise  you  to  do  all  your  writing  in  a  stand 
ing  posture.  This  has  been  my  own  constant  practice 
for  nearly  fifty  years  ;  and  I  am  constrained,  from 
ample  experience,  to  recommend  it  as  attended  with 
many  advantages.  If  you  write  at  a  common  table, 
the  probability,  and  certainly  the  danger  is,  that  you 
will  contract  a  crooked,  half-bent  mode  of  sitting, 
which  will  materially  injure  your  health.  Writing- 
chairs  are  very  much  in  vogue  with  many  students. 
But,  if  I  am  not  greatly  deceived,  they  are  pestiferous 
things,  which  do  ten  times  as  much  harm  as  good.  It 
is  almost  impossible  to  write  on  them  without  incurring 
an  unequal  and  mischievous  pressure  on  one  side.  In 
deed,  a  gentleman  of  much  experience  and  careful  ob 
servation  lately  assured  me,  that  he  had  procured  almost 
the  entire  banishment  of  such  chairs  from  an  important 
literary  institution,  with  which  ho  was  connected,  on 
account  of  the  serious  mischief  which  he  found  them 
to  produce  to  the  persons  and  general  health  of  the 
student.  If  you  write  standing,  and  guard  against 
pressing  the  breast  bone  on  the  edge  of  the  desk,  but 
rest  altogether  on  your  arms,  I  am  persuaded  you  will 
find  it  a  method  attended  with  fewer  inconveniences 


HEALTH. 


97 


and  dangers  than  any  other.  On  this  plan,  no  part 
of  the  body  is  in  a  constrained  posture,  and  the  circu 
lation  is  wholly  unobstructed.  Besides,  if  you  read 
sitting,  as  most  people  do,  it  will  create  an  agreeable 
variety  if  you  rise  when  you  begin  to  write. 

Pay  particular  attention  to  your  teeth.  By  this  I 
do  not  mean  that  you  should  be  continually  going  to 
the  dentist ;  and  far  less  that  you  should  abound  in  ap 
plications  to  the  teeth  of  various  tooth-powders,  which 
too  commonly  partake  of  acid  qualities,  which  cannot 
fail  of  corroding,  and  of  course  injuring  them.  I  be 
lieve  that,  in  most  cases,  applying  a  little  clean  water, 
in  which  a  small  portion  of  common  salt  has  been  dis 
solved,  with  a  soft  brush,  to  the  teeth,  on  rising  in  the 
morning,  and  just  before  retiring  to  rest  at  night,  will 
be  quite  sufficient  to  preserve  a  pure  and  healthful  state 
of  the  mouth.  The  evils  arising  from  the  neglect  or 
mismanagement  of  the  teeth  are  not  only  numerous, 
but  most  serious.  Diseased  gums  and  teeth,  fetid 
breath,  toothache,  early  loss  of  teeth,  interfering  with 
the  mastication  of  food,  and  destroying  the  power  of 
distinct  articulate  speech,  are  among  the  natural  and 
inevitable  results.  Often,  very  often,  have  I  seen  fine 
young  men,  who  had  originally  strong  and  beautiful 
sets  of  teeth,  from  gross  negligence,  or  from  unhappy 
management,  presenting  diseased  and  offensive  mouths 
before  they  were  twenty-five,  and  obliged  to  come  for 
ward,  to  the  pulpit  or  the  bar,  with  mouths  full  of  substi 
tutes  provided  by  the  dentist,  which,  though  exceedingly 
valuable,  are  both  defective  and  troublesome. 

In  my  letter  on  temperance,  I  have  dwelt  largely  on 
the  importance  of  that  virtue  to  health,  and  earnestly 
hope  that  my  sons  will  seriously  regard  my  counsels  on 
this  subject,  for  the  sake  of  their  physical,  as  well  as 
their  moral  welfare.  But  there  are  various  stimulants 
beside  strong  drink,  against  which  I  would  put  you  on 
your  guard.  The  moderate  use  of  common  salt  is,  I 
believe,  generally  considered  by  wise  physiologists  as 
indispensable  to  the  healthful  condition  of  animal  life ; 

y 


98 


HEALTH. 


and  it  therefore  ought  to  enter,  under  proper  regula 
tion,  into  our  daily  food.  But  this  regulation  is  ex 
ceedingly  important.  The  excessive  use  of  this  article 
has  led  to  serious  evils,  and  must  be  considered  as 
highly  insalubrious.  I  dislike  to  see  young  persons 
using  mustard,  pepper,  and  especially  cayenne  pepper, 
as  necessary  to  give  their  food  an  acceptable  relish. 
All  these  things,  together  with  the  pungent  orien 
tal  soys,  and  pickles,  I  would  advise  you  never  to  use ; 
or  at  any  rate  never  to  use  them  habitually  or  freely. 
They  are  all  stimulants,  and  some  of  them  highly 
stimulating  in  their  character  ;  and  of  course  their  ten 
dency  is  largely  to  expend  the  sensorial  power  of  the 
human  system,  and  prematurely  to  wear  out  the  vital 
principle.  Perhaps  it  may  be  said  that  some  very 
pleasant  dishes  require  condiments  of  this  kind,  to  assist 
digestion  and  render  them  safely  eatable.  But  surely 
every  wise  student,  if  he  values  his  constitution,  and 
desires  to  enjoy  comfortable  health,  will  rather  abstain 
from  dishes  which  require  a  very  vigorous  stomach  to 
digest,  than  resort  to  violent  and  injurious  means  for 
rendering  them  harmless. 

The  ways  in  which  young  men  in  college  endanger 
their  health  are  so  numerous,  that  it  is  difficult  to  go 
sufficiently  into  detail  to  meet  all  cases.  But  there  is 
one  habit  so  replete  with  danger,  and  yet  so  common, 
that  I  feel  constrained  to  single  it  out  for  warning, — 
I  mean  the  practice  of  sitting,  and  especially  lying  on 
the  damp  ground,  in  warm  weather  ; — a  practice  from 
which  severe  diseases,  and  the  loss  of  life  have  often 
been  derived.  It  is  indeed  wonderful  that  thinking 
youth  are  so  often  found  indulging  in  this  perilous  im 
prudence. 

Lying  long  in  bed  in  the  morning,  is  very  unfriendly 
to  health  and  long  life.  It  is  at  once  a  symptom 
and  a  cause  of  feeble  digestion,  of  nervous  debility, 
and  of  general  languor.  Whereas,  early  rising  is  com 
monly  connected  with  sound  sleep,  with  elasticity  of 
body  and  mind,  and  with  habits  of  activity,  which  are 


HEALTH.  99 

greatly  conducive  both  to  health  and  comfort.  Nor  is 
this  practice  less  conducive  to  success  in  mental  im 
provement.  It  not  only  tends  to  give  a  daily  spring 
to  the  mind,  but  also  to  make  a  very  important  addi 
tion  to  the  studying  hours  of  the  student,  and  to  pro 
mote  long  life.  It  was  the  remark,  if  I  mistake  not, 
of  the  celebrated  Lord  Mansfield,  that  illustrious  Eng 
lish  judge,  that  among  all  the  very  aged  men  whom  he 
had  been  called  to  examine  in  his  court,  he  could  not 
recollect  one  that  was  not  an  early  riser. 

I  have  only  one  advice  more  to  offer  in  regard  to 
your  health.  It  is  that  you  never  pursue  your  studies 
to  the  length  of  exhaustion  ;  that  you  never  urge  your 
selves  to  the  fulfilment  of  a  prescribed  task  when  sick 
ness  renders  all  mental  effort  painful  and  oppressive. 
By  such  pressure  the  mind  is  jaded  and  injured,  and 
no  valuable  acquisition  can  be  made.  It  is  not  only 
up-hill  work  ;  but  any  real  progress,  in  these  circum 
stances,  is  seldom  made.  In  all  mental  efforts  it  is 
best  to  leave  off  before  reaching  the  point  of  fatigue. 
When  we  go  on  beyond  that  point,  we  may  be  said,  in 
general,  to  lose  more  than  we  gain. 


LETTER  VIII. 

TEMPERANCE. 

,  rtavfa  tyxpar'tvET'ai. — 1   COT.  IX.  25. 


MY  DEAR  SONS — You  will,  perhaps,  ask  why  I  de 
vote  a  whole  letter  to  the  subject  of  temperance,  when 
I  have  already  employed  one  in  relation  to  morals  in 
general,  which  might  be  supposed  to  include  the  whole 
department  of  duty  to  which  it  belongs  ?  I  reply,  that 
I  regard  the  subject  of  strict  temperance  as  so  deeply 
interesting,  so  vital  to  the  physical  well-being,  as  well 
as  to  the  moral  welfare,  and  true  honour  of  a  student, 
that  I  consider  no  method  of  making  it  prominent,  and 
of  adding  to  its  impressiveness  in  this  code  of  counsels, 
as  going  beyond  its  unspeakable  importance. 

I  scarcely  ever  think  of  exhorting  young  men  on  the 
subject  of  temperance,  without  recollecting  an  occur 
rence  in  my  native  town,  more  than  half  a  century  ago, 
which  conveyed  a  lesson  to  me,  at  once  striking  and 
solemn.  A  father,  who  had  found  a  son  of  eighteen  or 
nineteen  years  of  age,  disorderly  and  unmanageable, 
proposed  to  place  him  under  the  care  and  government 
of  a  friend  at  some  distance,  who  had  a  high  reputation 
for  skill  and  energy  in  managing  disorderly  and  vicious 
young  men.  When  the  father  appeared  before  this 
friend  with  his  dissipated  and  intractable  son,  he 
thought  himself  bound,  both  in  duty  and  policy,  to  dis 
close  all  the  principal  faults  with  which  his  son  was 
chargeable,  without  disguise  or  softening.  He  began, 
by  saying,  "  My  son  is  in  grain  lazy,  and  cannot  be 
(100) 


TEMPERANCE.  101 

prevailed  upon  "by  any  influence  that  I  can  employ  to 
pursue  any  occupation."  "  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,"  said 
his  friend,  "  but  I  have  been  able  to  reclaim  many  a 
youth  from  habits  of  inveterate  idleness."  Again,  said 
the  father,  "  My  son  is  grievously  profane,  and  has 
given  me  much  distress  by  his  impious  language." 
"  That  is  bad,"  said  the  friend,  "  but  I  do  not  despair 
of  curing  him  of  that  fault,  distressing  as  it  may  be." 
"  That  is  not  all,"  said  the  father ;  ".he  will  lie,  notwith 
standing  all  that  I  can  do  to  show  him  the  sin  and  the 
disgrace  of  that  practice."  "  That  is,  indeed,  a  dread 
ful  fault,"  said  the  friend,  "but  there  is  hope  of  re 
claiming  him  even  from  that  habit,  vile  and  degrading 
as  it  undoubtedly  is."  "I  have  one  more  of  his  faults 
to  mention,"  said  the  father.  "  He  has  lately  mani 
fested  a  fondness  for  strong  drink,  and,  when  intoxi 
cated,  has  given  me  much  trouble."  "  Ah,  is  it  indeed 
so  ?'?  said  the  friend — "  then  there  is  no  hope  for  him ! 
You  must  take  him  away.  I  can  do  him  no  good.  He 
will  never  be  cured  of  that  vice."  This  case  actually 
happened.  The  result  was  as  predicted.  The  unhappy 
young  man  was  taken  home  again ;  became  more  and 
more  sottish ;  and  not  long  afterwards  died  a  miserable 
drunkard,  the  grief  and  disgrace  of  his  family.  And 
such,  I  am  persuaded,  will  very  seldom  fail  to  be  the 
case  with  a  youthful  tippler.  Perhaps,  indeed,  my 
countryman,  in  pronouncing  concerning  the  son  of  his 
friend,  that  he  would  never  reform,  was  rather  too 
prompt  and  summary  in  his  sentence.  I  will  not  say 
that  the  recovery  of  a  youth  from  that  vice  is  in  no 
case  to  be  hoped  for.  We  have  reason  to  be  thankful 
that  such  a  favourable  event  has  sometimes  occurred. 
Nay,  among  the  late  triumphs  of  the  temperance  cause, 
we  have  seen  cases  of  such  reformation  occurring  much 
more  frequently  than  in  former  times.  Still,  of  all 
sinners,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  lover  of  intoxi 
cating  drinks  is  among  the  most  hopeless.  It  is  for 
this  reason  that  I  call  your  attention  to  the  subject  of 
temperance,  with  all  the  emphasis  and  solemnity  of 
9* 


102  TEMPERANCE. 

which  I  am  capable ;  and  would  say,  in  the  language 
of  holy  writ — "He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him 
hear !" 

I  need  not  remind  you,  my  dear  sons,  that  the  young 
are  peculiarly  apt  to  be  ensnared  and  ruined  by  stimu 
lating  drinks.  They  are  proverbially  fond  of  company 
and  of  excitement ;  having  ardent,  and  too  often  un 
governable  feelings,  with  little  experience,  and  a  prone- 
ness  to  reject  the  counsels  of  age  and  wisdom,  no  won 
der  that  they  are  often  borne  away  by  the  intoxicating 
draught  to  insane  revelry,  to  ruinous  disorders,  and  to 
the  wreck  of  everything  good  for  time  and  eternity. 
0,  if  you  had  known,  as  I  have,  the  mischiefs  gene 
rated  in  colleges  by  strong  drink ;  how  many  amiable 
and  promising  young  men  have  been  led  on  from  occa 
sional  indulgence  to  abandoned  sottishness  ;  and  in 
how  many  instances  young  men  of  polished  manners 
have  been  betrayed  by  the  stimulus  of  drink  into  acts 
of  disorder,  and  even  brutal  violence,  leading  to  their 
temporary  suspension  from  college,  and  even  to  their 
ignominious  expulsion,  and  final  ruin,  you  would  not 
wonder  that  I  speak  to  you  on  this  subject  with  so 
much  earnestness  and  importunity. 

You  are,  no  doubt,  aware  that  the  laws  of  the  col 
lege  not  only  prohibit  all  intemperate  drinking,  but 
that  they  forbid  every  student  to  keep  in  his  room  any 
ardent  spirits,  or  fermented  liquors  of  any  kind;  and 
that  any  such  article  being  found  in  the  room  of  a 
student,  without  permission,  is  a  punishable  offence. 
When  you  recollect  that  such  a  law  has  been  framed 
and  placed  in  your  code  by  men  of  wisdom  and  expe 
rience,  and  that  it  belongs  to  the  system  of  all  col 
leges,  I  am  persuaded  that  you  will  regard  it  with  ap 
probation,  as  not  at  all  needlessly  strict,  and  that  you 
will  feel  bound  to  obey  it  to  the  letter,  and  with  scru 
pulous  care. 

Do  you  not  know  that  all  alcoholic  and  fermented 
liquors,  even  those  of  the  mildest  form,  when  taken 
habitually,  or  even  frequently,  excite  the  nervous  sys- 


TEMPERANCE.  103 

tern,  and  thus  derange  the  healthy  action  of  that  sys 
tem  ;  that  they  injure  the  tone  of  the  stomach ;  that 
they  create  a  craving  thirst,  which  cannot  be  satisfied 
without  an  increase  of  the  same  potation  which  created 
it ;  that  they  slowly  but  radically,  in  most  cases,  affect 
the  liver,  and  lay  the  foundation  of  many  loathsome 
and  fatal  chronic  diseases  ;  that  when  he  who  is  accus 
tomed  to  the  use  of  stimulating  drinks,  in  any  degree, 
does  become  sick,  his  restoration  to  health  is  less  pro 
bable,  and  even  when  it  is  effected,  more  slow,  because 
his  habit  of  body  interferes  with  the  operation  of  ap 
propriate  remedies,  rendering  them  less  active,  and, 
of  course,  less  useful  ?  If  you  are  not  aware  of  all 
these  indubitable  facts,  it  is  high  time  that  you  should 
recognize  and  be  convinced  of  them,  and  begin  that 
system  of  entire  abstinence  from  all  stimulating  drink, 
which  can  alone  ensure  your  safety. 

Young  men  are  apt  to  imagine  that  they  are  in  no 
danger  from  this  vice.  They  are  each  ready  to  say, 
with  the  youthful  and  inexperienced  Syrian  of  old — 
"  What,  is  thy  servant  a  dog  that  he  should  do  this 
thing  ?"  But  there  is  no  vice  in  the  world  more  al 
luring,  more  insidious,  or  more  apt  to  gain  the  mastery 
over  those  who  imagine  themselves  to  be  in  no  danger 
from  its  power.  Strong  drink  of  any  kind  excites  the 
feelings.  This  excitement,  by  a  well-known  law  of  our 
physical  constitution,  is,  of  course,  followed  by  a  cor 
responding  nervous  depression.  This  is  always  more 
or  less  painful.  A  sense  of  physical  want  is  created. 
The  temptation  to  recur  to  the  stimulus  which  pro 
duced  the  preceding  excitement  will  probably  be  too 
strong  to  be  resisted.  Every  successive  repetition  of 
the  stimulus  will  increase  the  craving  appetite,  and,  of 
course,  strengthen  the  temptation  to  repeat  from  day 
to  day  the  mischievous  remedy.  Thus  have  thousands, 
who  never  dreamed  of  being  drunkards,  been  led  on 
from  one  stage  of  indulgence  to  another,  as  the  ox  is 
unconsciously  led  to  the  slaughter — "till,"  as  the  wise 
man  expresses  it — "  a  dart  strikes  through  his  liver, 


104  TEMPERANCE. 

and  he  knows  not  that  it  is  for  his  life."  All  this, 
which  applies  to  thousands  who  scarcely  ever  read  a 
book,  applies  with  peculiar  force  to  youthful  students, 
who  are  more  apt  than  others  to  suffer  a  depression  of 
animal  feeling,  and  to  be  betrayed  into  a  love  of  some 
artificial  excitement. 

It  ought  to  be  remembered,  too,  that  the  indulgence 
in  stimulating  drinks  is  peculiarly  injurious  to  the 
youthful  frame.  By  this  is  meant  that  habits  of  tip 
pling  commenced  in  early  life,  are  always  found  to  un 
dermine  the  health,  and  work  their  usual  mischiefs, 
more  speedily  than  when  the  indulgence  is  commenced 
in  more  advanced  age.  In  regard  to  persons  in  mid 
dle  life,  and  especially  those  still  further  advanced,  when 
their  bodies  have  attained  more  maturity  of  growth, 
and  firmness  of  fibre,  although  the  ravages  made  by 
stimulating  drink  are  deplorably  apparent,  and  finally 
fatal ;  yet  it  is  observable  that  the  human  frame,  under 
these  ravages,  bears  up  longer,  and  seems  harder  to 
be  vanquished  than  in  the  more  youthful  subject.  This 
is  more  tender,  more  excitable,  more  easily  deranged, 
and,  of  course,  more  speedily  prostrated,  than  the  aged 
frame.  Accordingly,  it  has  been  remarked,  by  expe 
rienced,  sagacious  observers,  that  when  a  young  person 
of  eighteen  or  twenty  years  of  age  begins  to  indulge, 
even  in  a  small  degree,  in  strong  drink,  his  bodily 
strength  is  soon  undermined,  and  he  commonly  falls  an 
early  prey  to  the  destroyer. 

Listen,  then,  my  dear  sons,  to  an  affectionate  father, 
when,  with  all  that  earnestness  which  long  experience 
and  deep  conviction  warrant,  he  entreats  you  to  eschew 
and  avoid  all  use  whatever  of  stimulating  drinks. 
Touch  nothing  of  the  kind  as  an  ordinary  beverage. 
Drink  nothing  but  water,  and  you  will  be  the  better 
for  it  as  long  as  you  live.  I  believe  that  intoxicating 
drinks  do  not  help,  but  injure  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  out  of  every  thousand  of  those  who  use  them ; 
and  that  their  entire  banishment  from  literary  institu 
tions  is  so  unspeakably  desirable,  that  it  is  better — far 


TEMPERANCE.  105 

better  that  the  thousandth  person  should  suffer  a 
little  for  want  of  them,  than  that  their  disuse  in  all 
colleges  should  not  be  complete. 

These  being  my  views,  it  has  given  me  great  plea 
sure  to  learn,  that  a  society  has  been  formed  in  your 
college,  embracing  the  pledge  of  "total  abstinence 
from  all  that  can  intoxicate."  I  know  that  some,  both 
in  and  out  of  college,  consider  this  as  a  fanatical  ex 
treme,  and  set  their  faces  against  it.  This  is  not  my 
opinion.  I  am  persuaded  that  temperance  societies, 
on  the  "total  abstinence"  plan,  have  done  much  good, 
and  are  likely  to  do  much  more.  What  though  they 
have  been  carried  on  by  agents  of  suspicious  character, 
and  recommended  by  arguments  of  a  worse  than  sus 
picious  kind  ?  The  best  things  have  been  perverted, 
but  ought  not,  on  that  account,  to  be  disused.  It  is 
my  earnest  advice,  therefore,  that  you  should  become 
members  of  the  society  alluded  to,  and  not  only  ad 
here  to  its  pledge  with  sacred  fidelity,  but  endeavour 
to  promote  its  popularity  and  influence  by  all  the 
means  in  your  power.  True,  indeed,  some  of  the  ad 
vocates  of  "total  abstinence"  urge  their  doctrine  by 
arguments,  which  I  can  by  no  means  sustain.  They 
tell  us  that  the  word  of  God  gives  no  countenance  to 
the  use  of  fermented  wine,  in  any  case  whatever,  and 
that  it  is  not  lawful  to  use  such  wine  at  the  Lord's 
table.  In  these  positions  I  cannot  concur.  They  ap 
pear  to  me  unscriptural,  and  in  respect  to  the  Lord's 
Supper,  directly  to  set  at  defiance  the  Saviour's  express 
command.  I  can  never  believe,  that  he  instituted 
an  ordinance,  the  tendency  of  which  is  to  make  men 
drunkards.  Still,  so  far  as  the  advocates  of  the  doc 
trine  in  question  come  to  the  practical  result,  that  all 
persons  in  health  ought  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating 
drink,  as  an  ordinary  beverage,  for  the  promotion  of 
their  own  well-being,  and  on  the  principle  of  expedi 
ency,  for  discouraging  their  use  by  others,  I  am  cordi 
ally  with  them,  and  sincerely  wish  that  all  college  stu 
dents  in  the  land  were  banded  in  such  associations. 


106  TEMPERANCE. 

You  know  that  I  never  set  any  alcoholic  or  fermented 
liquors  on  my  own  table.  This  has  heen  my  practice 
for  many  years ;  and  I  have  adopted  the  practice  from 
a  conscientious  persuasion  that  my  own  health,  and 
that  of  all  my  family  is  benefited  by  it ;  and  also  from 
an  earnest  desire  to  promote,  by  my  example,  the  ban 
ishment  of  all  such  drinks  from  all  classes  of  society. 
When  I  see  so  many  around  me,  young  and  old,  falling 
victims  to  the  use  of  such  drinks  ;  and  especially  when 
I  see  so  many  young  men  of  the  finest  minds,  and  de 
voted  to  literary  pursuits,  led  astray,  and  some  of  them 
finally  ruined  in  body  and  mind  by  this  deceiver,  can 
you  wonder  that  I  am  unable  to  restrain  my  pen  when 
the  subject  is  in  question  ?  Can  you  consider  any  zeal  as 
excessive,  which  contemplates  the  banishment  of  intoxi 
cating  drinks  in  every  form  from  the  precincts  of  our 
literary  institutions  ?  As  a  friend  to  my  species,  I  feel 
constrained  to  do  all  in  my  power,  to  discourage  the 
use  of  this  insidious  poison.  It  is  no  sacrifice  to  me  to 
abstain  from  all  intoxicating  drinks  myself.  On  the 
contrary,  my  firm  persuasion  is,  that,  by  this  abstinence, 
I  promote  my  own  present  enjoyment,  and  that  of  my 
children.  But  even  if  it  were  otherwise,  I  should  feel 
myself  abundantly  rewarded  for  the  sacrifice,  by  the 
consciousness  of  pursuing  a  course  adapted  to  discour 
age  and  diminish  the  use  of  one  of  the  most  destruc 
tive  agents  that  ever  cursed  the  human  family.  And 
if  I  can  prevail  on  my  children  to  enter  into  the  spirit 
of  this  principle,  and  not  only  to  begin,  in  the  morn 
ing  of  life,  to  restrain  their  own  appetites,  but  also  to 
co-operate  cordially  in  a  plan  for  the  benefit  of  others, 
it  will  afford  me  unspeakable  gratification,  as  a  pledge 
that  they  will  prove  benefactors  to  the  world. 

If  you  desire,  rny  dear  sons,  to  avoid  the  degrading 
snare  of  stimulating  drinks,  avoid,  I  beseech  you,  all 
the  company  which  will  be  likely  to  lead  to  it.  In 
temperance  is,  generally,  and  especially  in  its  begin 
nings,  a  social  vice.  As  u  one  sinner,"  in  all  the  walks 
of  life,  "  destroys  much  good ;"  so  it  is  eminently  true. 


TEMPERANCE.  107 

that  one  votary  of  this  kind  of  excitement  can  hardly 
fail  of  endangering  the  virtue  of  others.  Fly  from  the 
society  of  all  such  as  you  would  from  the  most  deadly 
plague.  If  you  know  of  any  room  in  which  stimulat 
ing  drink  of  any  kind  is  kept,  avoid  it  as  you  would 
the  room  of  a  counterfeiter,  or  receiver  of  stolen  goods. 
If  you  enter  it,  none  can  tell  what  may  be  the  conse 
quence.  Even  if  you  should  not  be  tempted  to  par 
take  of  the  interdicted  draught,  who  can  assure  you 
that  your  character  may  not  be  unexpectedly  impli 
cated  by  your  being  found  or  seen  in  the  infected  re 
gion  ? 

In  fact,  any  student  of  college  who  finds  the  stimu 
lus  of  company  necessary  to  his  comfort,  ought  to  con 
sider  himself  as  on  the  verge  of  a  fatal  gulf.  He 
who  cannot  be  comfortable  in  the  retirement  of  his 
study  ;  who  does  not  feel  the  acquirement  of  know 
ledge  a  rich  gratification,  but  finds  the  excitement  of 
company,  and  the  social  song  indispensable  to  his  en 
joyment,  has  the  most  reason  to  be  alarmed  for  his 
safety.  The  vital  principle  of  intemperance  has  al 
ready  taken  up  its  abode  in  his  person,  and  without  a 
miracle,  will  probably  make  him  its  victim. 

I  should  be  utterly  ashamed,  my  dear  sons,  to  plead 
so  much  at  length,  a  cause  so  plain,  and  so  manifestly 
important,  and  indeed  vital,  as  that  of  temperance, 
were  it  not  that,  after  all,  some  young  men  are  so  in 
fatuated,  nay  so  suicidal  as  to  disregard  all  warning, 
and  plunge  into  the  gulf  of  infamy  and  perdition,  in 
sight  of  the  many  beacons  erected  to  guard  them 
against  it.  Every  one  who  has  eyes  to  see,  perceives 
that,  when  young  men,  under  the  excitement  of  com 
pany,  have  intoxicating  drink  within  their  reach,  they 
will  seldom  fail  to  abuse  it.  Every  one  is  forced  to 
acknowledge  that  nine-tenths  of  all  the  disorders  and 
crimes  in  colleges,  as  well  as  in  the  civil  community, 
arise  directly  or  indirectly  from  the  excitement  of  ine 
briating  liquors ;  and  yet  young  men,  who  claim  to 
have  both  talents  and  moral  principle,  are  neither 


108  TEMPERANCE. 

afraid  nor  ashamed  to  seek  the  intoxicating  cup,  and 
feel  as  if  they  had  gained  a  triumph  when  they  can 
enjoy  the  privilege  of  making  brutes  of  themselves  ! 

I  will  add  here,  that  if  you  wish  to  avoid  the  gulf 
of  intemperance,  you  must  by  all  means  avoid  the  use 
of  tobacco  in  any  form.  There  are  few  things  more 
adapted  to  inspire  disgust  on  the  score  of  manners,  or 
deep  apprehension  for  the  future  welfare  of  young 
men,  than  to  see  them  puffing  their  cigars  in  the  faces 
of  all  who  approach  them,  or  chewing  their  nauseous 
quids,  and  squirting  their  filthy  saliva  in  every  direc 
tion.  The  mischiefs  wrought  on  the  human  system  by 
this  narcotic  weed,  are  so  many  and  serious,  that  the 
only  wonder  is,  that  any  intelligent  young  man,  who 
does  not  wish  to  court  disease  and  danger  should  allow 
himself  to  use  it.  I  do  not  say  that  every  one  who 
uses  it  incurs  the  mischiefs  to  which  I  refer  ;  but  I 
assert  that  every  one  is  in  danger  of  incurring  them, 
and  that  if  he  escapes,  it  is  not  owing  to  any  want  of 
evil  tendency  in  the  indulgence  itself,  but  to  the  favour 
of  a  merciful  Providence.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  both  chewing  and  smoking  tobacco,  especially  the 
former,  have  been  the  means  of  making  thousands  of 
drunkards. 

Do  you  ask  what  connection  exists  between  the 
use  of  tobacco  and  the  habit  of  intemperance  in 
drinking  ?  I  answer,  great  every  way.  Do  you  not 
know  that  that  filthy  and  pernicious  weed,  when  either 
chewed  or  smoked,  is  a  strong  exciter  of  the  nervous 
system ;  and  that,  of  course,  it  deranges  the  natural 
and  healthful  action  of  that  system?  Do  you  not 
know  that  it  impairs  the  appetite ;  that  it  interferes 
with  the  regular  digestion  of  food;  that  it  often  in 
duces  distressing  and  incurable  diseases,  not  only  of 
the  stomach,  but  also  of  the  whole  body  ?  Are  you 
not  aware  that  the  progress  of  morbid  habit  in  the  use 
of  tobacco,  is  exactly  the  same  as  in  the  use  of 
spirituous  liquors  ?  The  slaves  of  it  begin  with  what 
they  call  the  temperate,  and  even  sparing,  use  of  the 


TEMPERANCE.  109 

article.  They  take,  perhaps,  a  single  cigar,  or  a  single 
quid,  or  a  single  pinch  of  snuff,  in  a  given  number  of 
hours.  But,  after  a  while,  the  appetite  for  this  indul 
gence  is  ever  craving  and  never  satisfied  ;  the  sensi 
bility  of  the  body  of  course  diminishes  with  the  in 
crease  of  the  frequency  and  quantity  of  the  stimulus  ; 
until,  at  last,  the  miserable  individual  is  wretched 
without  it ;  and  when  he  cannot  obtain  the  indulgence, 
is  reduced  to  a  state  of  suffering  more  distressing  than 
when  tortured  by  the  most  importunate  hunger.  I 
have  often  known  persons,  when  deprived  of  the  use 
of  tobacco  for  a  few  hours,  wholly  unfit  for  either 
study  or  conversation,  and  thrown  into  a  state  of  agi 
tation  but  little  short  of  mental  derangement.  Is  it 
wise  in  any  one  to  create  such  an  artificial  craving  as 
may  make  him  the  sport  of  circumstances,  and  the 
absence  of  a  paltry  indulgence  destructive  to  his  com 
fort,  and  even,  for  a  time,  to  his  usefulness  ? 

It  has  been  said,  indeed,  that  chewing  and  smoking 
tobacco,  assist  the  operations  of  the  mind ;  that  they 
produce  a  soothing  and  quickening  influence  which  is 
friendly  to  study,  and  especially  to  all  works  of  com 
position  and  eloquence.  But  do  not  ardent  spirits  and 
wine  give  insidious  aid  of  the  same  kind  ;  and  is  not 
the  ultimate  effect,  in  both  cases,  deceptive  arid  often 
fatal ? 

Nor  is  the  tendency  of  tobacco  less  obvious  to  pro 
duce  ultimate  intemperance  in  the  use  of  distilled  and 
fermented  liquors.  One  of  the  usual  effects  of  smo 
king  and  chewing  is  thirst.  This  thirst  cannot  be  al 
layed  by  water  ;  for  no  insipid  beverage  will  be  relished 
when  the  mouth  and  throat  have  been  exposed  to  the 
stimulus  of  the  smoke  or  juice  of  tobacco.  A  desire 
is,  of  course,  excited  for  strong  drink ;  and  this,  when 
taken  between  meals,  will  soon  lead  to  habits  of  intoxi 
cation.  I  have  seen  so  many  chewers  and  smokers 
ensnared  into  the  inordinate  love  of  inebriating  drinks, 
that  I  always  tremble  when  I  see  any  one,  and  es 
pecially  a  young  person,  becoming  fond  of  the  cigar  or 
10 


110  TEMPERANCE. 

the  quid,  and  consider  him  as  on  the  verge  of  a  preci 
pice. 

I  have  forborne  to  say  anything  of  the  enormous 
expense  of  smoking,  especially  as  this  indulgence  is 
conducted  by  some  students  of  reckless  habits.  I  can 
not  doubt  that  some  members  of  colleges  have  added 
one  hundred  dollars  a  year  to  the  other  charges  of 
their  education,  for  this  hateful  and  offensive  indul 
gence  alone  ;  in  a  few  cases  perhaps  double  that  sum. 
How  a  young  man  of  reflection  has  been  able  to  settle 
such  an  account  with  his  own  conscience,  and  with  an 
affectionate  parent,  who  was,  perhaps,  denying  himself 
for  the  sake  of  furnishing  the  requisite  funds  for  a 
beloved  son,  I  know  not.  I  am  constrained  to  think 
less  of  the  moral  sentiments,  as  well  as  of  the  under 
standing,  of  one  who  is  capable  of  reconciling  himself 
to  such  extravagance  for  so  hateful  and  injurious  a 
purpose. 

My  opposition  to  the  use  of  tobacco  in  the  form  of 
snuff  is  scarcely  less  decisive  than  that  to  the  other 
forms  of  this  noxious  weed.  The  effects  of  snuff  in 
affecting  the  voice,  the  complexion,  and  the  nervous  sys 
tem,  are  well  known  to  all  persons  of  much  observation. 
I  have  seen  deplorable  cases  of  nasal  obstruction,  of 
nervous  tremulousness,  and  various  forms  of  disease 
induced  by  this  disgusting  habit ;  and  every  young 
person  who  indulges  in  it  in  any  degree,  is  in  danger 
of  being  led  on  by  degrees,  until  he  shall  become  a  dis 
tress  to  himself,  and  an  offence  to  all  who  approach 
him. 

Let  me  entreat  you,  then,  my  dear  sons,  never  to 
indulge  in  the  use  of  tobacco  in  any  form,  or  in  any 
degree.  Whether  the  temptation  assail  you  by  assum 
ing  the  guise  of  a  remedy  for  some  disease,  or  as  a 
source  of  social  enjoyment,  believe  not  its  promises. 
It  is  a  deceiver,  and  will,  sooner  or  later,  give  reason 
for  repentance. 

The  late  Dr.  Franklin,  a  few  months  before  his 
death,  declared  to  a  friend,  that  he  had  never  used 


TEMPERANCE.  Ill 

tobacco  in  any  way  in  the  course  of  a  long  life  ;  and 
that  one  striking  fact  had  exerted  much  influence  on 
his  mind  in  relation  to  this  practice,  viz  :  that  he  never 
had  met  with  any  one  who  was  addicted  to  the  use  of 
it  who  advised  him  to  follow  his  example.  I  will  add 
to  this  statement  another  of  similar  and  still  more  de 
cisive  import.  I  never  yet  met  with  a  large  consumer 
of  tobacco  in  any  form,  who,  when  interrogated  on  the 
subject,  did  not  say,  that  if  he  had  to  live  his  life  over 
again,  he  would  avoid  the  habit  which  had  made  him  its 
slave  ;  and  that  he  would  by  no  means  advise  his 
children  to  do  as  he  had  done. 

I  expressed  an  opinion,  on  a  preceding  page,  that 
you  ought  to  make  water  your  only  common  beverage. 
My  own  personal  experience,  as  well  as  close  observa 
tion  on  the  habits  of  others,  convince  me  of  the  wisdom 
of  this  advice.  If  you  wish  to  live  out  all  your  days, 
and  to  possess  a  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body,  drink 
nothing  else,  as  a  habit.  But  you  may  drink  too 
much,  even  of  water.  The  habit  of  incessantly  guz 
zling  even  this  simple  and  innocent  fluid,  either  marks 
the  existence  of  disease,  or  will  probably  lead  to  it. 
It  indicates  the  presence,  or  the  approach  of  a  feverish 
diathesis  ;  or  if  it  do  not  spring  from  the  power  of  dis 
ease  already  formed,  it  will  be  likely,  by  deluging  the 
stomach  with  fluid,  by  diluting  the  gastric  juice,  and 
thus  impairing  its  appropriate  power,  to  interfere  with 
digestion,  and,  of  course,  to  impair  the  health.  Thirst 
is  quite  as  well  slaked,  in  my  experience,  by  two  or 
three  spoonfuls  as  by  a  pint  or  a  quart ;  arid  all  be 
yond  this  moderate  portion  tends  rather  to  load  the 
stomach  than  to  refresh  and  nourish.  The  habit  of 
flooding  the  stomach  with  fluids  is,  undoubtedly,  to 
most  people,  very  injurious.  The  drier  our  food  when 
we  receive  it  the  better.  At  least  all  my  observation 
leads  me  so  to  pronounce. 

Besides,  if  I  mistake  not,  I  have  had  occasion  to  re 
mark,  that  the  habit  of  intemperance  in  drinking  even 
water  is  apt  ultimately  to  betray  those  who  indulge  it, 


112  TEMPERANCE. 

into  the  intemperate  use  of  intoxicating  drinks.  Where 
persons  find  perpetual  drinking  necessary  to  their  com 
fort ;  where  they  have  induced  a  constant  artificial 
thirst,  and  are  continually  moistening  their  lips  and 
fauces  with  the  mildest  fluid  ;  what  can  be  more  natural 
than  gradually  to  slide  into  the  use  of  something  more 
sapid  and  stimulating?  The  incessant  drinker  will 
seldom  be  long  together  satisfied  with  water  alone. 


LETTER    IX. 


THE  FORMATION  AND  THE  VALUE  OF  CHARACTER. 


"  Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  honest, 
•whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatso 
ever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report ;  if 
there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these 
things." — PHILIP,  iv.  8. 


MY  DEAR  SONS — I  take  for  granted  that  you  have 
a  laudable  desire  to  maintain  an  elevated  character,  not 
only  among  your  fellow  students,  but  also  in  general 
society,  and  throughout  life.  I  have  no  objection  to 
styling  this  desire  a  commendable  ambition.  I  am 
aware  that  the  term  ambition  is  generally  used  in  a  bad 
sense,  and  that  it  is  not  commonly  numbered  among 
the  Christian  virtues.  But  I  am  unwilling  that  the  devil 
should  appropriate  such  an  expressive  and  convenient 
word  to  his  own  use.  Ambition  may  be  groveling  and 
criminal,  or  it  may  be  elevated  and  noble.  It  is  always 
the  latter  when  its  object  is  the  attainment  of  true  ex 
cellence,  and  the  enjoyment  of  high  esteem  among  the 
wise  and  the  good.  The  Latin  scholar  will  immediately 
trace  its  etymology  to  the  practice  among  the  old  Ro 
mans,  of  candidates  for  office  "  going  about"  to  solicit 
the  good  opinion  and  votes  of  the  people.  But  when 
any  one  seeks  to  excel  in  virtuous  and  useful  conduct ; 
when  he  desires  to  have  a  "good  name"  among  his  fel 
low  men ;  and  for  the  attainment  of  this,  among  higher 
and  better  objects,  "goes  about"  doing  good — seeking 
to  promote  the  welfare  of  all  around  him ; — who  will 
hesitate  to  say,  that  this  is  a  laudable  ambition  ?  The 
truth  is,  this  feeling,  like  the  desire  of  happiness,  is 
10  *  ( 113 ) 


114  THE   FORMATION    OF   CHARACTER. 

good  or  evil  according  to  the  direction  which  it  takes, 
and  the  means  which  it  employs.  I  indulge  the  hope 
tha£  the  ambition  of  my  beloved  sons  will  be  neither 
irregular  nor  ignoble ;  but  will  have  for  its  object  that 
"  good  name  which  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than  great 
riches,  and  that  loving  favour  which  is  more  precious 
than  silver  or  gold." 

Ask  yourselves,  then,  what  is  that  thing  called  eleva 
ted  character,  which  is  most  highly  esteemed  among 
wise  men,  and  which  is  most  worthy  of  your  pursuit  ?  It 
is  not  the  possession  of  great  wealth.  Some  of  the 
richest  men  that  ever  lived  have  been  among  the  most 
vile  and  detestable.  The  great  Governor  of  the  world 
often  testifies  "  of  how  little  value  exorbitant  wealth  is 
in  his  sight,  by  bestowing  it  upon  the  most  unworthy  of 
mortals. ' '  *  Neither  does  the  character  of  which  I  speak 
consist  of  great  popularity  among  the  multitude.  This 
popularity  has  frequently  been  attained,  and  sometimes 
in  a  very  high  degree,  by  men  who  were  destitute  of  a 
single  virtue,  and  who  ought  to  have  been  universally 
abhorred.  Nor  does  it  necessarily  imply  great  genius, 
or  intellectual  powers  of  a  very  high  order.  These  en 
dowments  fall  to  the  lot  of  very  few  men,  and  even 
these  are  sometimes  monsters  of  wickedness.  What  wise 
man  would  be  willing  to  take  the  talents  of  Byron,  at  the 
expense  of  incurring  his  moral  infamy  ?  On  the  con 
trary,  some  of  the  most  beloved  and  useful  men  that 
ever  lived,  did  not  possess  extraordinary  talents,  but 
that  happy  combination  of  good  sense,  sound  judgment, 
and  great  moral  purity  and  activity,  which  fitted  them 
to  be  a  blessing  to  mankind. 

What,  then,  is  that  character  which  is  most  highly 
esteemed  by  the  wise  and  the  good  ;  which  most  cer 
tainly  and  effectually  commands  public  esteem  and  con 
fidence  ;  and  which  a  man  of  really  elevated  views 
would  wish  to  enjoy?  No  thinking  person  can  be  for 
a  moment  at  a  loss  to  answer  this  question.  It  is  a 

*  Arbutlmot's  Epitaph  on  Francis  C/tartres. 


THE  FORMATION  OF  CHARACTER.       115 

character  which  exhihits  the  combined  and  noble  quali 
ties  of  respectable  talents,  sound  and  extensive  know 
ledge,  immovable  integrity  and  honour,  persevering 
industry  in  every  laudable  pursuit,  fidelity  to  every  en 
gagement,  enlightened,  steady  patriotism,  a  spirit  of 
warm,  diffusive,  active  benevolence,  and  unfeigned  con 
sistent  piety.  Where  these  qualities  meet  and  shine  in 
any  individual — and  the  more  complete  the  assemblage 
the  better — all  parties  will  unite  in  ascribing  to  him  an 
exalted  character  ;  all  will  concur  in  saying — this  is  the 
"  highest  style  of  man."  Even  the  vilest  profligate  in 
the  community  would  earnestly  desire,  if  it  were  pos 
sible,  to  possess  such  a  character  ;  and  if  he  were  about 
to  select  a  medical  attendant  for  his  family,  in  severe 
sickness ;  a  legal  counsellor  for  himself,  in  a  case  of 
important  and  perplexing  controversy  ;  an  executor  of 
his  estate,  or  a  guardian  for  his  children  ;  he  would 
say,  with  instinctive  eagerness,  "  Give  me  a  man  not 
only  of  sound  talents  and  knowledge,  but  also  of  high 
and  unblemished  moral  and  religious  character."  Even 
atheists  have  never  failed  to  prefer  such  men  for  im 
portant  confidential  trusts,  to  those  of  their  own  class. 
And  why  is  it  thus  ?  simply  because  the  character  which 
I  have  described,  is  best  adapted  to  prepare  those  who 
possess  it,  to  meet  all  the  relations,  to  perform  all  the 
duties,  and  to  enjoy  all  the  comforts  of  life,  and  to  pro 
mote  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  all  around  them. 

The  value  of  such  a  character,  as  a  commodity  in 
the  market,  is  inestimable.  The  qualities,  indeed, 
which  go  to  form  such  a  character  are  intrinsically  ex 
cellent,  and  ought  to  be  prized  for  their  own  sake. 
But  their  value  does  not  end  here.  They  elevate  their 
possessor  in  public  estimation.  They  inspire  confi 
dence  not  only,  as  I  have  said,  on  the  part  of  the  wise 
and  the  good,  but  of  all  classes  of  society.  They  put 
it  in  his  power  to  take  a  higher  professional  stand ;  to 
command  larger  emoluments  for  his  services ;  and,  in 
short,  to  attain  honours  and  rewards  in  proportion  to 
their  popular  acceptance. 


116  THE   FORMATION   OF   CHARACTER. 

Now,  if  such  be  the  character  which  is  most  truly 
desirable  ;  which  is  most  esteemed  by  all  classes  of 
men ;  which  is  the  richest  source  of  influence  and 
power  ;  and  which  is  adapted  to  secure  the  greatest 
amount  both  of  usefulness  and  enjoyment, — surely 
every  one  who  is  preparing  to  live,  should  keep  this 
object  continually  in  view,  and  seek  its  attainment  as 
the  best  earthly  treasure.  He  cannot  begin  too  early, 
or  labour  too  diligently,  to  gain  that  which  is  unspeak 
ably  more  precious  than  all  the  stores  of  mammon  that 
were  ever  amassed.  On  the  one  hand,  whatever  else 
a  man  may  gain,  if  his  character  be  not  elevated,  he  is 
poor  indeed ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  whatever  he  may 
lose,  if  his  character  be  untarnished  and  high,  he  is 
still  rich.  Friends  may  die  ;  wealth  may  take  to  itself 
wings  and  fly  away ;  honourable  office  may  be  wrested 
from  him  ;  but  if  his  character  remain  unsullied,  his 
most  precious  earthly  possession  is  still  left  him ;  he 
can  still  call  his  own  all  that  love,  respect,  and  true 
honour,  which  may  enable  him  either  to  regain  all 
that  he  has  lost,  or  to  live  contented  and  happy 
without  it. 

This  being  the  case,  it  has  often  excited  in  my  mind 
great  surprise,  and  not  a  little  regret,  to  find  members 
of  college,  not  freshmen  merely,  but  juniors,  and  even 
seniors,  apparently  taking  no  thought  for  the  establish 
ment  of  a  high  and  honourable  character  among  their 
fellow  students,  and  the  mass  of  their  acquaintances. 
I  see  them  indulging  a  temper,  using  language,  ex 
hibiting  manners,  and  allowing  themselves  to  pursue  a 
system  of  conduct,  adapted  to  excite  the  aversion  and 
distrust,  if  not  the  utter  enmity,  of  all  who  are  connected 
with  them.  Surely  such  young  men  forget  that,  even 
if  they  succeed  in  becoming  eminent  scholars,  it  will 
only  be  to  render  themselves  more  conspicuously 
odious,  and,  of  course,  more  unable  to  rise  in  the 
world  ;  and  they  equally  forget,  that  if  it  be  desirable 
and  important  that  a  good  character  be  formed,  as  it 
is  not  the  growth  of  a  day,  or  of  a  sudden  volition, 


THE  FOKMATION  OF  CHARACTEE.       117 

the  sooner  they  begin  to  form  and  to  build  it  up  the 
better. 

This  character,  let  it  ever  be  remembered,  must  in 
all  cases  be  formed  by  the  individual  himself.  I  do 
not  mean,  of  course,  by  this  remark,  to  exclude  that 
divine  aid  by  which  everything  truly  good  in  our 
hearts  or  lives  is  attained.  Without  that  aid  we  can 
do  nothing.  But  my  meaning  is,  that  every  one's 
character  depends  on  the  spirit  and  conduct  which  he 
himself  possesses  and  exhibits.  He  cannot  leave  to 
others  the  task  of  forming  it  for  him,  any  more  than 
he  can  leave  to  others  the  task  of  eating,  and  drinking, 
and  breathing  to  sustain  his  life.  His  own  spirit  and 
acts  must  form  his  character.  It  is  not  enough  that 
the  parents  or  other  relatives  of  a  young  man  maintain 
a  high  standing.  They  may  occupy  the  very  highest 
position  in  office,  honour  and  wealth  that  can  possibly 
be  enjoyed ;  but  if  he  have  no  character  of  his  own, 
these  advantages  will  be  so  far  from  sustaining  him, 
that  their  influence  will  be  rather  adverse  in  its  nature. 
His  degradation  will  assuredly  be,  by  contrast,  more 
complete,  in  public  estimation,  on  account  of  the  other 
members  of  his  family.  I  have  known  not  a  few  young 
men  evidently  ruined,  by  acting  on  the  presumption 
that  the  character  of  their  parents  would  sustain  them, 
without  effort  on  their  part,  and  who,  under  this  im 
pression,  neglected  the  cultivation  of  their  minds,  and 
took  no  pains  to  form  virtuous  habits,  or  to  establish 
a  reputation  of  their  own.  Never  was  there  a  more 
deplorable  mistake  than  this.  Character  is  a  personal 
matter.  It  must  be  strictly  your  own,  or  it  can  profit 
you  nothing.  There  is  a  sense,  and  that  a  most  im 
portant  one,  in  which  it  may  be  said,  that  all  the  world 
cannot  sustain  your  reputation,  if  you  neglect  it  your 
selves.  It  must,  under  God,  be  constantly  sustained 
by  yourselves,  or  it  will  fall  into  ruin. 

So  far  as  my  observation  has  gone,  the  greater  part 
of  college  students  appear  to  have  no  laudable  emula 
tion  at  all.  They  are  sunk  in  intellectual  and  moral 


118      THE  FORMATION  OF  CHARACTER. 

apathy,  neither  aiming  nor  striving  to  excel  in  any 
thing.  And  when  a  few  are  roused  to  a  measure  of 
zeal  and  effort,  their  desire  seems  to  be  directed  to 
mere  excellence  in  scholarship,  and  nothing  else.  If 
they  can  outstrip  all  others  in  study  and  attainments, 
their  utmost  wishes  are  answered.  This  is,  no  doubt, 
an  important  part  of  the  character  which  ought  to  be 
sought  by  every  young  man ;  but  it  is  not  the  whole, 
nay,  it  is  not  the  most  essential  part.  Many  a  youth 
has  gained  the  "first  honour,"  who  had  a  hateful  tem 
per,  and  never  attained  any  high  degree  of  esteem 
among  men,  notwithstanding  his  mere  literary  triumph. 
It  is  my  earnest  desire,  my  dear  sons,  that  you  may 
acquire  and  maintain  a  character  for  eminent  scholar 
ship  ;  but  it  would  grieve  me  to  the  heart  if  your  cha 
racter  went  no  further  than  this.  My  still  more  ardent 
desire  is,  that  you  may  attain  and  manifest  all  those 
moral  and  religious  qualities  which  excite  esteem,  which 
command  confidence,  which  secure  the  love  of  the  wise 
arid  the  good,  and  which  prepare  for  eminent  useful 
ness.  This,  this  is  the  .character  which,  in  prosperity 
and  adversity,  in  sickness  and  in  health,  in  sorrow  and 
in  joy,  in  life  and  in  death,  will  bear  its  possessor 
through,  and  never  fail  him. 

Allow  me  to  say,  further,  that  I  desire  for  yon  that 
decision  of  character  which  is  adapted  to  resist  all 
temptation,  and  to  overbear  every  unfriendly  influence. 
The  great  unhappiness  of  many,  and  especially  of  many 
young  men,  is  that,  though  their  principles  are  correct, 
and  their  intentions  good,  they  are  apt  to  yield  to  soli 
citation.  They  cannot  put  a  decisive  negative  on  the 
wishes  and  entreaties  of  beloved  friends.  This  is  a 
deplorable  weakness,  which  has  led  to  many  a  false 
step,  and  to  many  a  shipwreck  of  youthful  promise.  It 
is  one  of  the  most  precious  attainments  of  a  young 
man,  not  only  to  be  established  in  good  principles,  but 
to  have  them  so  fixed,  firm,  and  governing,  as  to  stand 
equally  unmoved  against  the  terrors  of  menace,  and 
the  enticements  of  Hattery ;  to  cultivate  a  firmness  of 


THE  FORMATION   OF  CHARACTER.  119 

moral  purpose  which  dares  to  deny,  and  which  is  not 
ashamed,  in  pursuing  the  path  of  duty,  to  put  custom, 
fashion,  and  the  solicitation  of  the  greatest  numbers  at 
defiance.  This  moral  courage,  boldness,  and  decision, 
impart  a  finish  to  a  character  in  all  other  respects  good, 
which  is  at  once  as  ornamental  as  it  is  useful. 

While  I  call  upon  you  to  consider  the  importance  of 
character,  and  to  recollect  that  it  is  a  treasure  to  be 
formed  and  maintained  by  yourselves ;  I  would,  at  the 
same  time,  remind  you  that  it  is  a  most  delicate  thing, 
which  a  single  false  step  may  irretrievably  destroy. 
Young  men  are  apt,  indeed,  to  imagine  that  their  con 
duct  during  the  period  of  adolescence  is  of  small  im 
portance.  They  admit,  and  perhaps  in  some  measure 
feel,  that,  by  and  by,  when  they  shall  have  advanced 
a  little  further  in  the  career  of  life,  every  step  that 
they  take  will  be  practically  momentous.  They  allow 
that  reputation  then  will  be,  indeed,  a  tender  plant, 
easily  blasted,  and  requiring  to  be  protected  and  nur 
tured  with  the  utmost  care.  But  now  they  imagine 
that  they  may  take  considerable  liberties  with  their 
reputation;  that  juvenile  mistakes,  and  even  serious 
delinquencies,  will  be  readily  overlooked  and  soon  for 
gotten  by  an  indulgent  community.  There  never  was 
a  greater  mistake.  All  my  experience  leads  me  to  say, 
that  the  aberrations  of  college  students  from  the  paths 
of  integrity  and  honour,  are  remembered  against  them 
with  a  degree  of  tenacity  and  permanency  truly  in 
structive.  I  have  known  one  false  step  in  college,  one 
dishonest  or  dishonourable  action,  one  consent,  in  an 
evil  hour,  to  become  a  partaker  in  a  disreputable  scheme 
or  enterprise,  to  fasten  itself  upon  a  young  man,  to 
follow  him,  and  to  adhere  to  him  to  his  dying  day.  I 
could  easily  specify  examples,  if  it  were  proper, 
of  gross  lying,  petty  theft,  mean  deception,  or 
swindling,  which  occurred  in  different  colleges,  at  eight 
een  or  nineteen  years  of  age,  which  no  subsequent 
conduct  could  ever  obliterate  from  the  popular  me 
mory  ;  which  followed  their  perpetrators  through  a 


120  THE   FORMATION   OF   CHARACTER. 

long  public  career  ;  and  which  some  coarse  rival  or  op 
ponent  brought  up  to  their  confusion  and  shame  in  old 
age.  When  will  the  wretch,  who,  not  long  since,  mur 
dered  Professor  Davis,  of  the  University  of  Virginia, 
be  able  to  escape  from  the  infamy,  and  if  he  be  not  a 
fiend  incarnate,  from  the  remorse,  of  that  awful  crime? 
Even  if,  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  were  to  become  a  saint 
from  this  hour,  how  would  he  obtain  deliverance  from 
the  tortures  of  his  own  mind,  or  from  the  reproaches 
of  every  one  who  identified  his  person,  though  taking 
refuge  in  the  remotest  corner  of  the  globe  to  which 
his  flight  may  bear  him  ? 

Let  me  say,  then,  my  dear  sons,  if  you  desire  to 
form  and  maintain  an  honourable  character  through 
life,  begin  now  to  establish  it,  to  watch  over  it,  to 
guard  with  the  utmost  care  against  everything  that 
can,  by  possibility,  affect  it  unfavourably.  Try  to  es 
tablish  a  reputation  with  all  with  whom  you  have  in 
tercourse,  for  a  strict  regard  to  truth,  and  for  the 
most  scrupulous  adherence  to  integrity  and  honour 
in  every  transaction.  Let  nothing  tempt  you  to 
engage,  for  a  moment,  in  any  scheme  or  enterprise 
involving  duplicity,  underhand  dealing,  or  anything 
that  could  tempt  you  to  shun  the  light.  Allow  your 
selves  to  deceive  nobody.  Enter  into  no  cabal.  Put 
it  into  no  one's  power  to  charge  you  with  a  mean 
trick,  or  double  dealing,  in  the  smallest  concern.  Rather 
suffer  anything  yourselves  than  deceive,  betray,  or  in 
jure  any  human  being.  Let  no  false  shame,  no  fear 
of  giving  offence,  no  desire  to  conciliate  friends,  ever 
tempt  you  to  consent  to  that  which  your  judgment  con 
demns.  Dare  to  do  what  your  conscience  tells  you  is 
right — whomsoever  it  may  disappoint  or  offend.  Avoid 
with  sacred  care  slander,  backbiting,  in  short,  every 
thing  inconsistent  with  the  strictest  justice,  the  most 
elevated  magnanimity,  and  the  purest  benevolence. 
Never  indulge  that  gossiping  spirit,  which  leads  to  the 
propagation,  however  honestly,  of  evil  reports,  and 
which  frequently  involves  those  who  indulge  it  in 


THE   FORMATION   OF   CHARACTER.  121 

vexatious  and  not  very  honourable  explanations  and 
apologies.  You  are  preparing,  if  permitted  to  live,  for 
public  usefulness.  For  such  a  life,  in  any  profession, 
a  degree  of  reserve,  caution,  and  even  taciturnity,  is 
indispensable.  Begin  now  that  self-discipline  which 
will  prepare  you  for  all  the  solemn  and  delicate  respon 
sibilities  of  public  station.  A  man  "  full  of  talk"  will 
often  find  himself  embarrassed  by  the  unbridled  effu 
sions  of  his  own  tongue.  "  Be  swift  to  hear,  slow  to 
speak,  slow  to  wrath."  In  a  word,  let  it  be  your  aim 
in  everything,  to  establish  such  a  character  as  shall 
compel  every  one  who  knows  you,  to  rely  on  your  word 
as  much  as  upon  other  men's  oaths  ;  and  to  say,  when 
ever  there  is  occasion  to  speak  of  you,  "  Here,  if  any 
where  on  earth,  we  shall  find  candour,  truth  and 
honour." 
11 


LETTER    X. 

PATRIOTISM. 
"  Pro  Patria,  Pro  Patria." 

MY  DEAR  SONS — An  eastern  sage  was  wont  to  say, 
"  No  life  is  pleasing  to  God,  that  is  not  useful  to  man." 
The  spirit  of  Christianity  still  more  clearly  and  strongly 
inculcates  the  same  sentiment.  The  Saviour  constantly 
"went  about  doing  good."  His  daily  walks,  and  all 
his  miracles  had  for  their  object  the  instruction  of  the 
ignorant,  the  relief  of  suffering,  and  the  promotion  of 
the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  of  men. 

This  is  the  pattern  for  all  who  profess  to  be  his  dis 
ciples.  Nay  more,  it  is  not  only  the  pattern  presented 
and  recommended  to  the  Christian,  but  it  is  a  plan  of 
living  so  reasonable,  so  beautiful,  so  wise,  and  so  attrac 
tive  in  itself,  that  every  rational  creature  ought  to  make 
it  his  model.  It  were  an  easy  task,  independently  of 
revelation,  to  demonstrate  that  such  a  life,  on  the  part 
of  every  social  being,  is  demanded  by  his  own  true 
interest,  and  by  the  happiness  of  society,  as  well  as  by 
the  authority  of  God.  It  is  true  on  the  real  principles 
of  natural  religion,  as  well  as  of  revealed,  that  no  man 
can  innocently  live  to  himself. 

What  ingenuous  youthful  student  of  the  classics  has 
not  felt  a  generous  ardour  glowing  in  his  bosom,  when 
he  dwelt  on  that  oft  repeated  maxim  of  the  pagan  poet, 
''•Dulce  et  decorum  est  pro  patria  mori;"  and  when 
he  read  of  the  self-sacrifices  of  Curtius,  and  of  the 
Decii,  father,  son  and  grandson,  for  the  sake  of  their 
country  ?  Surely  these  feelings  are  not  kindled  by  an 
ideal  abstraction ! 
(122) 


PATRIOTISM.  123 

I  am  aware  that  it  has  been  said,  that  we  nowhere 
find  patriotism  enjoined  as  a  virtue  in  the  Christian 
Scriptures.  And  if  by  patriotism  be  meant,  as  some 
understand  the  term  to  mean,  that  exclusive  or  para 
mount  attachment  to  a  particular  nation,  because  we 
happen  to  be  members  of  it,  which  permits  us  to  dis 
regard  the  rights  or  invade  the  interests  of  other  na 
tions;  then,  indeed,  the  word  of  God  neither  enjoins 
nor  allows  it.  The  religion  of  the  Bible  is  adapted  and 
intended  for  all  nations  alike.  And,  of  course,  the 
spirit  of  the  Bible  is  a  spirit  of  universal  benevolence, 
which  desires  and  aims  to  promote  the  welfare  of  every 
creature. 

We  are  not,  indeed,  to  consider  Christianity  as  teach 
ing  that  we  are  to  have  no  more  regard  for  our  own 
country  than  for  any  other.  Such  a  view  of  duty 
would  be  unnatural,  and  likely  to  exert,  in  the  end,  a 
mischievous  influence.  The  apostle  Paul  expresses,  in 
Rom.  ix.  3,  a  special  attachment  to  "his  brethren, 
his  kinsmen,  according  to  the  flesh;"  and  the  same 
inspired  man  still  more  strongly  and  solemnly  expres 
ses  the  same  sentiment,  when  he  says,  1  Tim.  v.  8, 
"  He  that  provideth  not  for  his  own,  and  especially  for 
those  of  his  own  house,  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is 
worse  than  an  infidel."  The  truth  is,  it  is  always  most 
natural  and  most  easy  to  consult  the  interest  and  pro 
mote  the  welfare  of  those  among  whom  we  dwell,  to 
whom  we  can  have  ready  access,  and  especially  who 
are  cast  upon  our  care.  It  would,  indeed,  be  superla 
tively  absurd  to  leave  our  own  children  to  the  care  of 
strangers,  while  we  took  care  of  theirs  ;  or  to  leave 
the  concerns  of  our  own  country  to  be  looked  after  and 
managed  by  foreigners,  while  we  undertook  to  legislate 
and  judge  for  other  countries.  Nevertheless,  though  our 
own  families,  our  own  towns,  and  our  own  country, 
ought  to  engage  far  more  of  our  attention  and  care 
than  other  families,  other  towns,  and  other  countries, 
yet  we  are  not  at  liberty  so  to  care  for  ourselves  as  to 
disregard  or  oppose  the  welfare  of  others.  But  while 


124  PATRIOTISM. 

we  are  peculiarly  careful  to  do  good  to  our  own,  we  are 
quite  as  carefully  to  avoid  all  invasion  of  the  rights 
or  happiness  of  other  families  or  nations. 

Dr.  Johnson,  indeed,  once  said,  that  "  patriotism  is 
the  last  refuge  of  a  scoundrel."  By  this  apothegm 
that  eminent  man  did  not  mean  to  say,  that  there  is  no 
such  genuine  virtue ;  but  that,  in  ninety-nine  cases  out 
of  an  hundred,  its  most  forward  and  noisy  claimants 
were  supremely  and  dishonestly  selfish,  and  really 
seeking  their  own  aggrandizement,  not  their  country's 
welfare.  This  witness  is  true.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  greater  number  of  those  who  claim  for  their 
zeal  and  their  toil  the  patriot's  name,  are  actuated  by 
the  meanest  selfishness,  and  are  seeking  nothing  but 
their  own  advantage.  Yet,  sordid  and  base  as  the 
greater  portion  of  those  who  take  this  name  are,  patri 
otism  is  not  a  mere  name.  It  is  a  precious  reality. 
And  I  wish  you  to  possess  it. 

He  is  the  truest  patriot,  then,  in  the  Christian  sense 
of  the  word,  who  loves  his  own  country  with  sincere 
peculiar  affection,  and  constantly  labours  to  promote 
her  true  honour  and  happiness,  but  without  injuring 
or  diminishing  the  welfare  of  any  other  country ;  who 
devotes  his  time,  his  counsels,  and  his  best  efforts,  for 
bestowing  intellectual,  moral,  and  physical  benefits  on 
the  community  to  which  he  belongs ;  but  at  the  same 
time  desires  and  strives  to  bestow  the  same  benefits,  as 
far  as  may  be,  on  all  other  communities.  In  short, 
Christian  patriotism  considers  nothing  as  foreign  from 
its  care  which  tends  to  promote  the  happiness  of  man ; 
and  for  this  purpose  plans  and  labours,  first  to  confer 
all  possible  benefits  on  its  own  family  and  nation,  and 
then  on  other  families  and  nations  to  the  remotest 
bounds  of  human  society.  In  a  word,  the  spirit  of 
genuine  patriotism  is  the  spirit  which  prompts  to  do 
good  in  every  way  to  every  branch  of  the  human  family, 
and  especially  to  those  with  whom  we  are  more  imme 
diately  connected,  or  who  are  placed  most  directly 
within  our  reach.  This  is  the  noble  virtue  which  I 


PATRIOTISM.  125 

should  be  glad  to  see  my  sons  cultivating,  and  which 
I  hope  will  more  and  more  shine  in  them  as  long  as 
they  live. 

A  venerable  English  reformer,  nearly  three  centu 
ries  ago,  when  he  was  drawing  near  the  close  of  life, 
exclaimed  with  emphasis,  "Pro  Ecclesia  Dei;  Pro 
Ucclesia  Dei  /"  It  would  gratify  me  more  than  I  can 
express  to  know  that  similar  language,  whether  in 
sickness  or  in  health,  in  life  or  in  death,  was  constantly 
uppermost  on  your  lips.  But  it  would  also  afford  me 
high  pleasure  to  know  that,  even  now,  in  the  walks  of 
the  college,  your  minds  are  animated  with  a  noble  am 
bition  to  discharge  with  fidelity  all  your  duties  as  good 
citizens,  and  that  in  looking  forward  to  your  course  in 
life,  you  often  have  in  your  minds  the  spirit,  and  on 
your  lips  the  language  of  the  motto,  which  stands  at 
the  head  of  this  letter — Pro  Patria — Pro  Patria  ! 

Perhaps  you  are  ready  to  say,  that  a  letter  on  patri 
otism  is  hardly  appropriate  in  a  code  of  counsels  ad 
dressed  to  lads  in  college ;  that  advice  on  such  a  topic 
would  be  more  seasonable  if  intended  for  young  men 
entering  on  professional  life,  and  preparing  to  dis 
charge  their  duties  as  active  citizens.  If  such  a  thought 
arise  in  your  minds,  it  indicates  immature  conceptions 
of  the  subject.  The  present  is  your  seed-time  of  life, 
not  only  in  regard  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  but 
also  in  respect  to  the  sentiments  and  habits  of  thinking 
which  are  to  stamp  your  whole  course.  Alexander 
Hamilton,  the  first  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  of  the 
United  States,  came  to  this  country,  a  youth  of  sixteen, 
a  short  time  before  the  crisis  of  our  contest  with  Great 
Britain,  and  the  commencement  of  the  revolutionary 
war.  Though  this  was  only  his  adopted  country,  yet, 
as  he  resolved  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  her,  he  soon  began 
to  feel  that  she  had  claims  upon  him,  and  that  his  best 
powers  ought  to  be  devoted  to  her  service.  Even  while 
he  was  in  college,  his  patriotic  zeal  was  awakened  to 
plead  her  cause,  and  endeavour  to  promote  her  wel 
fare.  At  that  early  period  he  wrote  a  number  of 
11* 


126  PATRIOTISM. 

pieces  in  the  journals  of  the  day,  in  favour  of  indepen 
dence,  so  judicious,  so  eloquent,  and  in  every  respect 
so  elevated  in  their  character,  that  they  were,  at  first, 
ascribed  to  the  pen  of  one  of  the  ablest  writers  and 
statesmen  of  New  York.  With  what  ardour,  ability 
and  usefulness  the  subsequent  portions  of  his  life  were 
devoted  to  the  service  of  his  country,  in  her  armies, 
her  deliberative  bodies,  and  her  cabinet,  no  one  who  is 
acquainted  with  our  history  is  ignorant. 

This  example,  and  many  others  which  might  be  cited, 
both  in  this  country  and  the  land  of  our  fathers,  show 
that  the  sooner  you  begin  to  realize  to  yourselves 
that  your  country  has  a  claim  on  you,  and  that  you  are 
bound  to  respond  to  that  claim  by  preparing  to  serve 
her  with  your  best  powers,  the  better.  Such  a  practi 
cal  impression,  recognized  and  carried  out  into  habitual 
act,  is  adapted  to  exert  an  influence  on  the  whole 
character  of  a  young  man,  of  the  happiest  kind. 

It  cannot  fail  to  enlarge  and  elevate  his  mind.  One 
of  the  greatest  faults  of  most  young  men  is,  that  their 
views  are  narrow  and  sordid.  They  do  not  lift  their 
minds  to  high  and  remote  objects.  If  their  present 
appetites  and  wishes  can  be  gratified ;  if  their  present 
little  tasks  can  be  acceptably  performed,  it  is  enough. 
They  look  for  no  preparation,  recognize  no  responsi 
bility  beyond  this.  But  the  moment  the  principle  of 
genuine  patriotism  takes  root,  and  springs  up  in  the 
mind,  it  presents  an  object  of  desire,  a  motive  to  action, 
at  once  noble  and  elevating.  It  carries  its  possessor 
out  of  himself,  and  disposes  him  to  make  sacrifices  to 
principle.  The  youth  begins  to  see  that  he  is  bound 
to  live  for  a  great  purpose.  His  country,  in  conse 
quence  of  his  connecting  with  it  his  own  destiny,  ap 
pears  more  precious.  He  cherishes  a  sacred  emulation 
to  be  a  benefactor  to  the  community  and  to  the  world. 
He  desires  that  the  world  may  be  the  better  and  hap 
pier  for  his  having  lived  in  it.  He,  of  course,  shapes 
his  plans,  his  studies,  and  his  habits  accordingly.  He 
cultivates  his  powers,  stores  his  inind  with  knowledge, 


PATRIOTISM.  127 

and  labours  to  attain  that  species  of  excellence  which 
•will  enable  him  most  effectually  to  serve  the  public. 
In  short,  the  mind  of  such  a  youth  is  cast,  as  it  were, 
into  a  mould  adapted  to  great  attainments,  great  ser 
vices,  and  great  usefulness. 

Such  a  youth  will,  of  course,  learn  to  see  and 
despise  that  noisy,  heartless  pretension  to  patriotism, 
which  flows,  not  from  the  least  love  of  country,  but 
from  a  desire  to  make  a  living  out  of  the  country,  or 
to  be  decorated  with  her  honours.  This,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
is  the  real  spirit  of  nine-tenths,  if  not  much  more,  of 
all  the  professed  patriotism  which  is  most  ardent  and 
obtrusive.  This  spirit  is  indeed,  what  the  great  Eng 
lish  moralist  styles  it,  "  the  last  refuge  of  a  scoundrel." 
The  young  patriot  in  college  will  have  made  no  small 
acquisition,  when  he  has  learned  the  sordid,  despicable 
character  of  this  spirit,  and  acquired  a  real  taste  for 
something  higher  and  better. 

I  need  scarcely  add,  that  the  student  who  has  im 
bibed  something  of  the  patriotic  spirit,  will  not  be  found 
lending  his  aid,  or  even  his  countenance,  to  any  species 
of  disorder  in  college.  He  will  regard  perfect  obedi 
ence  to  the  laws  as  an  essential  part  of  the  charac 
ter,  not  only  of  a  good  student,  but  also  of  a  good 
citizen.  He  will  turn  away,  upon  principle,  from  all 
the  practices  which  are  unfriendly  to  order,  to  purity, 
to  health,  and,  in  general,  to  the  best  interests  of  society. 
He  will  refuse  to  employ  his  time  in  reading  books, 
whatever  may  be  their  fascinations,  which  are  im 
moral,  and,  of  course,  mischievous  in  their  tendency. 
In  a  word,  he  will  abhor  everything  which  is  unfriendly 
to  the  happiness  of  the  community ;  and  will  grudge 
no  toil  which  is  adapted  to  put  him  in  possession  of 
any  knowledge  or  accomplishment,  by  which  he  may  be 
better  qualified  to  become  an  ornament  and  a  bene 
factor  to  his  country. 

I  hope,  my  dear  sons,  you  will  no  longer  say  or 
think,  that  this  is  a  subject  on  which  it  is  unsuitable 
to  address  a  student  in  college.  So  far  from  this 


128  PATRIOTISM. 

being,  in  my  estimation,  the  case,  I  am  constrained  to 
say,  that,  next  to  the  piety  of  the  heart,  which  is,  more 
than  anything  else,  the  anchor  of  the  soul,  and  better 
adapted  to  hold  it  fast,  and  to  hold  it  comfortably  on 
the  troubled  ocean  of  life — I  desire  my  sons  to  imbibe 
the  spirit  of  patriotism  ;  to  feel  that  they  belong  to 
their  country,  as  well  as  their  God,  and  that  they  are 
solemnly  bound  to  cultivate  every  power,  and  to  make 
every  attainment,  which  will  qualify  them  to  be  so 
many  sources  of  light,  and  virtue,  and  happiness  to 
the  community.  Because  I  know  that  the  more  deeply 
this  principle  shall  take  root  in  their  minds,  the  more 
benign  the  influence  which  it  will  exert  over  the  whole 
character.  Such  a  principle  will  not  be  a  mere  name. 
It  will  sober  the  mind.  It  will  impress  a  deep  sense 
of  responsibility.  It  will  excite  to  diligence  in  study. 
It  will  guard  a  young  man  against  giving  his  time  to 
that  frivolous  or  mischievous  reading,  wrhich  tends  to 
his  injury,  instead  of  preparing  him  for  the  duties  of 
practical  life.  In  short,  it  will  tend  to  impart  that 
sobriety,  that  dignity,  that  industry,  that  desire  to 
serve  his  generation,  and  that  desire  to  live  in  the 
affections,  and  in  the  memory  of  his  fellow  citizens, 
which  we  may  hope  will  be  the  means  of  preparing 
him  to  be  the  man,  and  to  make  the  attainments,  which 
are  the  objects  of  his  noble  ambition. 


LETTER   XI. 


PARTICULAR  STUDIES. 


Floriferis  ut  apes  in  saltibus  omnia  libant, 

Omnia  nos  itidem  depascimur  aurea  dicta. — LUCRETIUS. 


MY  DEAR  SONS — When  some  one  asked  Agesilaus, 
the  king  of  Sparta,  what  it  was  in  which  youth  ought 
principally  to  be  instructed,  he  very  wisely  replied, 
"  That  which  they  will  have  most  need  to  practise  when 
they  are  men."  I  said  that  this  was  a  wise  reply ;  and 
so  it  undoubtedly  was,  if  we  could  assume  that  every  one 
knows  in  youth  what  he  may  have  most  occasion  for 
when  he  becomes  a  man.  But  I  contend  that  no  man 
knows  what  the  providence  of  God  has  in  reserve  for  him 
in  after  life ;  and,  of  course,  no  one  can  tell,  in  all  cases, 
what  branch  of  knowledge,  among  those  which  he  is 
called  to  study,  may  be  of  most  importance  to  him 
hereafter,  either  as  a  means  of  subsistence,  or  as  an 
avenue  to  honour  and  usefulness.  If,  therefore,  a  stu 
dent  of  college  were  to  ask  me,  "  Which  of  my  pre 
scribed  studies  shall  I  attend  to  with  diligence?"  I 
would  certainly  reply — "  to  all ;  neglect  none  of 
them — be  not  content  to  be  superficial  in  any  of  them. 
It  maybe  that,  in  after  life,  you  may  find  those  branches 
of  knowledge,  which  you  are  now  tempted  to  undervalue, 
of  more  vital  importance  to  you  than  all  the  rest  put 
together.  To  meet  an  exigency  of  this  kind,  try  to  be 
thorough  in  every  study  ;  and  then  you  may  be  prepared 
for  any  situation  in  which  the  providence  of  God  may 
place  you. 

I  shall  never  forget  a  remarkable  example,  which  at 

(129) 


130  PARTICULAR   STUDIES. 

once  illustrates  and  confirms  this  advice.  I  was  inti 
mately  acquainted,  in  early  life,  with  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  scholars  our  country  ever  bred.  I  refer 
to  the  Rev.  Dr.  John  Ewing,  of  Philadelphia,  for 
many  years  Provost — another  name  for  President — of 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  He  was  a  graduate 
of  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  which  then  had  its  loca 
tion  in  Newark,  but  now  in  Princeton.  He  belonged 
to  the  class  which  was  graduated  in  1755,  and,  after 
reading  what  I  am  about  to  state,  you  will  not  wonder 
that  he  was  greatly  distinguished  in  his  class.  He  re 
marked,  one  day,  in  my  hearing,  that  in  the  earlier 
stages  of  his  college  life,  he  was  often  tempted  to  slight 
what  he  then  deemed  some  of  the  less  essential  branches 
of  his  prescribed  course.  He  sometimes,  he  said,  asked 
himself,  "  Of  what  use  can  some  of  these  studies  pos 
sibly  be  to  me  in  after  life  ?"  Partly  by  his  own  bet 
ter  reflections,  however,  and  partly  by  the  advice  of 
the  venerable  President  Burr,  then  at  the  head  of  the 
institution,  he  was  induced  neither  to  neglect  nor  slight 
any  study,  under  the  impression  that  he  might  have 
occasion  for  them  all  in  his  subsequent  course.  This 
suggestion,  which  he  contemplated  as  a  possibility,  was 
amply  realized.  After  the  lapse  of  a  few  years,  he 
was  himself  placed  at  the  head  of  an  important  college, 
and  found  abundant  use  for  all  his  acquirements.  He 
was  probably  more  thoroughly  accomplished  in  all  the 
branches  of  knowledge  usually  studied  in  the  best  col 
leges,  than  any  other  native  American  of  his  day ;  and 
probably  few  of  his  contemporaries  in  any  country  ex 
ceeded  him.  This  qualified  him  not  only  to  maintain 
an  enlightened  superintendence  over  the  whole  institu 
tion  committed  to  his  care,  but  also  enabled  him  in  the 
occasional  absence  of  any  professor,  whatever  his 
branch  of  instruction  might  be,  to  take  his  place,  at  a 
moment's  warning,  and  perform  his  duties  quite  as  well 
as  the  professor  himself.  This  he  was  often  known 
to  do,  to  the  admiration  of  circles  of  waiting  pupils, 
\vho  saw  no  other  difference  between  him  and  their 


PARTICULAR   STUDIES.  131 

regular  professor  in  that  branch,  than  a  manifest  supe 
riority  of  taste,  accuracy,  and  profundity  on  the  part 
of  their  accomplished  president. 

Nor  is  this  by  any  means  the  only  example  which 
experience  has  furnished  of  the  vital  importance  to 
individuals  of  diligence  and  faithfulness  in  pursuing 
every  branch  of  their  collegiate  course.  On  the  one 
hand,  I  have  known  a  number  of  graduates  of  colleges, 
who,  though  in  affluent  circumstances  at  the  time  of 
their  graduation,  were  unexpectedly  reduced  to  poverty, 
who  found  the  genuine  and  ripe  scholarship  which  they 
had  been  wise  enough  to  acquire  in  college,  a  source  of 
ample  and  honourable  support  as  long  as  they  lived. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  have  know  many  examples  of 
young  men  who,  with  the  best  opportunities,  were  lazy 
enough,  or  inconsiderate  enough,  to  make  all  their  stu 
dies  slight  and  superficial,  and  who  afterwards  found, 
to  their  mortification  and  loss,  that  they  had  not  schol 
arship  sufficient  to  qualify  them  for  any  of  the  situa 
tions  to  which  they  might  otherwise  have  aspired,  and 
which  would  have  secured  them  both  comfort  and 
honour. 

I  entreat  you,  then,  my  dear  sons,  not  to  cheat 
yourselves  in  regard  to  this  matter.  For,  truly,  every 
young  man  may  be  said  to  cheat  himself,  more  than 
he  cheats  his  teachers  or  his  guardians,  when  he  slights 
or  neglects  the  study  of  any  important  branch  of 
knowledge  which  belongs  to  a  liberal  education.  By 
so  doing,  he  diminishes  his  own  treasures,  and  lessens 
his  own  power,  both  of  doing  good,  and  of  obtaining 
pre-eminence  in  life.  The  more  you  can  store  your 
minds,  with  every  species  of  useful  knowledge,  the 
better  prepared  you  will  be  to  "serve  your  generation 
by  the  will  of  God,"  and  to  attain  that  true  honour 
among  men,  which  the  union  of  knowledge  and  virtue 
never  fails  to  secure. 

But,  notwithstanding  this  general  principle,  which 
ought  to  govern  every  student,  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  there  are  some  branches  of  knowledge  more  radi- 


132  PARTICULAR   STUDIES. 

cal  in  their  value  and  influence  than  others,  and  which, 
therefore,  ought  to  be  cultivated  with  peculiar  zeal  and 
diligence.  If,  therefore,  you  ask  me,  which  of  all  the 
studies  prescribed  in  your  collegiate  course,  you  ought 
to  regard  with  especial  favour,  and  to  cultivate  with 
special  preference  and  labour,  I  would,  without  the 
least  hesitation,  say  they  are  the  ancient  languages 
and  Mathematics.  Study  to  be  at  home  in  all  the 
branches  prescribed  for  your  course  ;  but  in  these 
make  a  point  of  being  strong,  mature,  and  rich.  If 
you  should  be  compelled,  by  feeble  health,  or  by  any 
other  consideration,  to  pass  more  hastily  than  you 
could  wish  over  any  particular  studies,  let  neither  of 
these  two  be  of  the  number.  They  are  fundamental 
in  all  intellectual  culture,  and,  when  in  any  good  de 
gree  mastered,  diffuse  an  influence  over  all  the  other 
departments  of  knowledge  which  every  good  scholar 
will  perceive,  and  which  none  but  a  good  scholar  can 
appreciate. 

You  are  aware  that  some  of  the  friends  of  liberal 
knowledge  in  general,  have  laboured  hard  to  depress 
the  claims  of  classical  literature,  as  an  indispensable 
part  even  of  a  collegial  course  of  study.  But  the  longer 
I  reflect  on  the  subject,  the  deeper  is  my  conviction 
that  all  such  efforts  are  the  result  either  of  ignorance, 
or  of  that  deplorable  infatuation  which  is  sometimes 
found  to  enslave  the  minds  of  men,  whose  knowledge 
ought  to  have  made  them  wiser.  I  am  ready,  indeed, 
to  grant  that  the  study  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  lan 
guages  ought  not  to  be  enjoined  on  every  youth  who 
seeks  to  gain,  in  any  degree,  a  literary  and  scientific 
education.  If  a  young  man  should  contemplate  being 
a  merchant,  or  an  artist,  or  extensive  planter,  or  a 
mechanic,  I  should  by  no  means  urge  him  to  devote 
much  of  his  time  to  the  study  of  classic  literature. 
Yet  if  even  such  an  one  had  leisure  for  it,  and  could 
afford  the  expense,  he  might  be  better  qualified  to  adorn 
and  to  enjoy  the  pursuit  to  which  he  devoted  himself, 
by  the  richest  classical  acquirements.  Not  only  might 


PARTICULAR   STUDIES.  133 

he  derive  from  that  species  of  knowledge  a  rational 
and  very  elevated  enjoyment,  by  the  gratification  of 
taste,  but  he  might  be  able  to  conduct  his  employment, 
•whatever  it  was,  upon  a  more  liberal  scale,  upon  more 
improved  principles,  and  with  a  taste  and  intelligence 
wholly  unattainable  without  it.  I  would  certainly  say, 
then,  to  every  young  man  who  could  command  the 
means  for  the  purpose,  "  Whatever  may  be  your  con 
templated  pursuit  in  life,  make  a  point  of  gaining  as 
much  classic  literature  as  you  can.  It  will  be  an  orna 
ment  and  a  gratification  to  you  as  long  as  you  live.  It 
will  enlarge  your  views,  discipline  your  mind,  augment 
your  moral  and  intellectual  power,  and  prepare  you  for 
more  extensive  and  elevated  usefulness." 

Such  would  be  my  address  to  every  young  man  who 
had  the  opportunity  of  making  the  attainment  in  ques 
tion.  But  with  respect  to  what  is  denominated  a  "  libe 
ral  education,"  such  an  education  as  is  commonly 
understood  to  be  given  in  colleges,  all  intelligent  men, 
all  except  a  few  intellectual  fanatics,  contend  for  clas 
sical  literature  as  an  indispensable  part  of  the  course. 
May  it  ever  continue  to  be  so  !  When  colleges  cease 
to  make  the  study  of  Greek  and  Latin  a  necessary  and 
a  prominent  part  of  their  plan  of  instruction,  I  hope 
they  will  abandon  their  charters,  and  no  longer  perpe 
trate  the  mockery  of  conferring  degrees. 

It  is  no  longer,  then,  an  open  question,  whether  you 
shall  devote  some  measure  of  your  attention  to  the 
study  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages.  You  must 
be  in  some  degree  acquainted  with  this  branch  of  know 
ledge,  if  you  would  gain  the  honours  of  the  College 
of  New  Jersey.  But  I  wish  you,  my  dear  sons,  to  go 
much  further  than  this.  It  is  my  earnest  desire  and 
injunction,  that  you  make  the  ancient  languages  an 
object  of  special  attention  ;  that  in  whatever  else  you 
are  deficient,  you  make  it  a  point  to  be  strong  and 
thorough-going  here.  My  reasons  for  this  injunction 
are  the  following : 

A  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  language,  and  of  the 


134  PARTICULAR   STUDIES. 

right  use  of  speech,  may  be  said  to  be  a  radical  mat 
ter,  both  in  gaining  and  imparting  all  other  kinds  of 
knowledge.  He  who  would  express,  on  any  subject, 
exactly  what  he  means,  and  be  able  to  know  exactly 
what  others  mean,  must  have  an  exact  acquaintance 
with  the  principles  and  powers  of  language.  The  study 
of  the  laws  of  written  and  vocal  speech,  therefore, 
must  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  intellectual  teaching 
and  attainment.  This  will  be  disputed  by  no  one  who 
is  qualified  to  judge  in  the  case. 

Now  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  understand  the 
essential    principles  of   grammar,    without    being  ac 
quainted  with  more  languages  than  one.     All  scholars 
are  unanimous  in  maintaining  this  position.     But  if 
we  must  learn  more  languages  than  one,  in  order  to 
comprehend  the  general   laws   which   govern   human 
speech,  it  is  surely  desirable  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  most  perfect  languages  with  which  the  world  has 
ever    been    favoured.     In  regard  to  those  languages 
which  have  the  highest  claim  to  this  character,  there 
is  great  unanimity  of   opinion  among    learned    men. 
All  agree  that  among  the  languages  within  our  reach 
the  Greek  and  Latin  are  the  most  perfect  instruments, 
for  the  expression  of  human  thought,  that  the  world 
has  ever  known.     They  are  more  precise  and  copious 
in  their  idioms  ;  more  rich  and  expressive  in  their  voca 
bulary  ;    more  happy  in  their  collocation  ;  and  more 
delicately  clear,  transparent  and  comprehensive  in  their 
whole  structure  than  any  other  languages  with  which 
we  are  acquainted.     "  It  is  the  appropriate  praise  of 
the  best  writers  in  those  languages,  that  they  present 
us  with  examples  of  the  most  exquisite  beauty  of  thought 
and  expression,  united  with  inimitable  simplicity ;  that 
they  scarcely  ever  present  us  with  one  idle  or  excres 
cent  phrase  or  word  ;  that  they  convey  their  meaning 
with  a  brevity,  a  directness,  a  clearness,  and  a  force, 
which  have  never  been  exceeded.     Their  lines  dwell 
upon  our  memory.     Their  sentences  have  the  force  of 
oracular  maxims.     Every  part  is  vigorous,  and  very 


PARTICULAR   STUDIES.  185 

seldom  can  anything  be  changed  but  for  the  worse. 
We  wander  in  a  scene  where  everything  is  luxuriant, 
yet  everything  vivid,  graceful  and  correct."  Surely, 
then,  those  who  wish  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
power  of  language  as  an  instrument  of  thought ;  with 
the  most  delicate  and  discriminating  shades  of  mean 
ing  which  it  is  capable  of  expressing ;  with  those  happy 
turns  of  expression  by  which  every  thought  may  be 
conveyed  in  the  most  clear,  direct  arid  forcible  manner, 
can  engage  in  no  study  better  adapted  to  refine,  en 
rich,  and  enlarge  the  mind,  than  that  of  those  noble 
dialects,  which  served  for  so  many  ages  as  instruments 
of  instruction  and  eloquence  to  the  great  master  minds 
of  the  ancient  world.  Surely  he  who  undervalues  and 
neglects  these  languages,  is  chargeable  with  undervalu 
ing  and  neglecting  some  of  the  noblest  objects  and 
means  of  knowledge  that  can  well  engage  the  atten 
tion  of  the  student  of  literature  or  science. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  serious  consideration  that  Greek 
is  the  original  language  of  part  of  the  Holy  Scrip 
tures;  and  that  a  deep  acquaintance  with  classical 
Greek  is  a  most  important  accomplishment  in  one  who 
undertakes  to  be  a  skilful  interpreter  of  the  inspired 
volume.  This  consideration  will  not  fail  to  be  appre 
ciated  by  every  enlightened  scholar,  and  especially  by 
all  who  have  in  view  the  sacred  office. 

Another  important  consideration  here  is  often  not 
duly  regarded.  In  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages 
there  are  hidden  from  the  vulgar  eye  treasures  of  know 
ledge,  which  are  richly  worthy  of  being  explored,  but 
which  can  never  be  fully  laid  open,  excepting  to  those 
who  understand  those  languages.  Ancient  Greece  and 
Rome  furnish  us  with  the  finest  models  of  history,  of 
poetry,  and  of  various  objects  of  science  and  taste, 
which  the  world  has  ever  possessed.  To  be  ignorant 
of  these  models,  and  of  all  the  facts  and  principles  of 
which  they  form  the  dress  and  the  vehicle,  is  indeed  to 
deprive  ourselves  of  an  amount  of  knowledge  of  which 
it  is  difficult  adequately  to  estimate  the  value.  Let 


136  PARTICULAR  STUDIES. 

none  say,  that  the  noblest  monuments  of  Grecian  and 
Roman  genius  may  be  fully  made  known  to  us  by  trans 
lation.  No  competent  judge  of  the  matter  ever  ima 
gined  that  this  was  possible.  No  ancient  classic  was 
ever  so  translated  as  to  give  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
original.  The  facts  which  they  state  may,  indeed,  be 
exhibited  in  a  modern  tongue ;  but  their  native  exqui 
site  beauties  can  never  be  expressed  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  be  fully  comprehended  in  another  language. 
They  must  ever  continue  to  be  a  hidden  treasure  to  all, 
but  those  who  can  hold  communion  with  the  language 
of  the  original  writer.  Aside,  however,  from  the  ne 
cessary  imperfection  of  all  translations  from  the  Greek 
and  Latin  tongues,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  large 
stores  of  knowledge,  embodied  in  those  languages,  have 
never  been  translated  at  all  into  English;  and,  of 
course,  are  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  the  mere 
English  reader. 

Besides,  let  it  not  be  forgotten,  that  some  of  the 
ablest  productions  of  the  seventeenth  century,  that 
age  of  genius  and  of  profound  erudition,  were  written 
in  the  Latin  language.  The  most  valuable  treatises  of 
Bacon,  Newton,  and  other  master  spirits  of  that  age, 
first  appeared  in  Latin.  But  is  it  not  humiliating  to 
one,  claiming  to  be  a  scholar,  to  be  unable  to  commune 
with  those  eminent  authors  in  their  original  dress  ? 

But  more  than  this;  we  cannot  really  understand 
our  own  vernacular  tongue  without  a  knowledge  of 
Greek  and  Latin.  No  one  can  take  the  slightest  sur 
vey  of  the  English  language,  or  of  any  of  the  modern 
languages  of  Europe,  without  observing  how  largely 
all  of  them  are  made  up  of  derivatives  from  Greek  and 
Latin.  We  can  scarcely  utter  a  sentence,  especially 
in  any  of  the  higher  walks  of  discourse,  without  using 
many  terms,  the  exact  meaning  of  which  cannot  be 
adequately  understood  without  a  knowledge  of  the 
tongues  from  which  they  are  derived.  We  may,  in 
deed,  without  this  knowledge,  have  some  general  idea 
of  the  meaning  of  the  terms  thus  employed,  but  of 


PARTICULAR   STUDIES.  137 

their  precise  meaning  and  force  we  cannot  be  adequate 
judges  without  knowing  something  of  their  etymology. 
And  hence,  though  we  sometimes  find  those  who  never 
learned  Greek  or  Latin,  who  speak  and  write  their  own 
language  with  force,  and  sometimes  even  with  elo 
quence  ;  yet,  even  in  such  speakers  and  writers,  the 
real  scholar  may  generally  discern  the  absence  of  that 
precision,  appropriateness  and  felicity  of  expression 
which  can  only  be  attained  by  familiarity  with  the 
ancient  classics. 

Nor  is  even  this  all.  When  we  turn  to  the  technical 
language  of  any  one  art  or  science  in  popular  use — the 
language,  for  example,  of  Chemistry,  of  Zoology,  of 
Botany,  of  Mineralogy,  of  Geology,  &c.,  we  shall  find 
it  almost  all  borrowed  from  the  Greek  or  Latin  ;  and, 
of  course,  the  students  of  these  sciences,  though  they 
may,  with  great  labour,  learn  the  meaning  of  these 
terms  by  rote  ;  yet  how  much  better  to  begin  the  study 
with  such  a  knowledge  of  the  ancient  classics  as  will 
save  the  toil  of  committing  to  memory  the  import  of 
terms  which,  to  the  ear  of  the  scholar,  would  proclaim 
their  meaning  as  soon  as  pronounced.  It  is  evident, 
therefore,  that  he  who  addresses  himself  to  the  study 
of  any  of  the  branches  of  knowledge  of  which  I  speak, 
having  previously  acquired  a  competent  knowledge  of 
Greek  and  Latin,  will  find  his  labour  more  than  half 
abridged,  and  will  proceed  with  more  ease,  with  more 
intelligence,  and  with  more  accuracy  at  every  step. 

If,  then,  you  desire  to  obtain  a  clear  knowledge  and 
thorough  mastery  of  language  as  an  instrument  of 
thought ;  if  you  desire  to  be  really  at  home  in  your 
own  language  ;  if  you  wish  to  form  a  pure,  precise, 
lucid,  happy  style;  if  you  would  furnish  yourselves 
with  a  happy  instrumentality  for  entering  and  advan 
tageously  pursuing  every  other  branch  of  knowledge  ; 
if  you  would  become  master,  either  in  speaking  or 
writing,  of  a  rich,  copious,  exact,  discriminating  vocab 
ulary  ;  if  you  would  gain  that  knowledge  of  antiquity 
which  will  serve  an  invaluable  purpose  whatever  your 
12*  J 


138  PARTICULAR   STUDIES. 

pursuits  may  be,  and  which  in  some  professions  is  in 
dispensable  ;  if  you  would  adopt  one  of  the  most  effec 
tual  means  for  the  discipline  of  the  mind;  if  you  desire 
to  be  able  to  read  the  best  English  classics  with  the 
highest  degree  of  taste,  pleasure,  and  profit ;  and  if 
you  would  be  furnished  with  some  of  the  very  finest 
means  of  ornament  and  illustration  in  all  the  higher 
walks  of  discourse — make  a  point  of  being,  as  far  as 
possible,  profound  and  accurate  classical  scholars. 
Rich  attainments  in  this  department  of  knowledge  will 
shed  a  lustre  and  a  glory  over  every  other.  They  will 
render  the  study  of  every  other  more  easy,  more 
pleasant,  and  more  valuable.  They  will  enlarge  your 
minds,  and  your  power  of  applying  them  both  usefully 
and  ornamentally,  to  an  extent  not  easily  measured. 
And  if,  in  the  providence  of  God,  you  should  fail  of 
success  in  any  particular  profession,  a  thorough  know 
ledge  of  the  classics  will  open  a  door  to  emolument  and 
honour,  in  whatever  part  of  the  world,  or  in  whatever 
circumstances  you  may  be  thrown.  Were  I  called 
upon  to  mention  that  accomplishment  which,  united 
with  a  fair  moral  and  religious  character,  would  most 
certainly  secure  to  its  possessor  an  ample  and  respec 
table  support,  I  should  undoubtedly  say,  it  is  that  of  a 
sound  and  accurate  classical  scholar. 

Let  me  enjoin  it  upon  you,  then,  in  every  part  of 
your  college  course  to  pay  special  and  unremitting 
attention  to  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics.  Study 
some  portion  of  them  every  day,  whether  your  pre 
scribed  task  requires  it  or  not.  Never  pass  over  a 
sentence  without  analysing  it  thoroughly,  and  going 
to  the  bottom  both  of  its  terms  and  its  connected  im 
port.  Never  let  a  week  pass  without  engaging  in  both 
Greek  and  Latin  composition.  Familiarize  yourselves 
to  double  translations,  i.  e.  from  these  languages,  and 
into  them  again.  I  hardly  know  a  more  rigorous  and 
improving  intellectual  discipline  than  that  of  faithful 
and  accurate  translations  from  the  ancient  classics,  and 
then,  laying  the  book  aside,  attempting  to  restore  the 


PARTICULAR   STUDIES.  139 

original.  Be  in  the  habit  of  committing  to  memory 
passages  of  remarkable  significance  and  beauty  in 
those  languages ;  and  think  it  not  too  much  to  form  a 
little  club  of  half  a  dozen  fellow  students  for  the  pur 
pose  of  speaking  Latin,  whenever  you  come  together. 
If  I  had  my  collegial  life  to  live  over  again,  I  would 
certainly  make  a  point  of  forming  such  an  association, 
and  of  being  one  of  its  members.  Its  members  should 
spend  an  hour  together  at  least  once  a  week ;  and  one 
of  its  strictest  rules  should  be  not  to  utter  a  single  word 
in  conversation,  when  together,  in  any  other  language 
than  Greek  or  Latin.  This  is  a  hint,  rely  upon  it, 
worthy  of  regard.  I  have  repeatedly  been  placed  in 
circumstances  in  which  I  had  no  means  of  conversing 
with  learned  foreigners  but  in  Latin.  To  be  able  to 
speak  it  with  some  degree  of  readiness,  is  not  only  a 
great  convenience,  but  an  elegant  accomplishment. 

But  while,  among  the  regular  studies  of  the  college, 
I  unhesitatingly  assign  the  first  place  in  importance  to 
classic  literature,  I  must,  with  equal  decision,  assign 
the  second  place  to  mathematics,  as  one  of  those  radi 
cal,  governing  studies  which  diffuse  over  the  whole 
mind,  and  all  its  acquirements,  a  salutary  influence. 

It  is  a  common  thing  for  young  men  to  dislike 
mathematics,  and  to  consider  a  taste  for  this  depart 
ment  of  knowledge,  as  the  mark  of  a  plodding  and 
dull  mind.  They  conceive  of  its  principles  as  insuffera 
bly  dry,  and  of  its  results  as  in  a  great  measure  use 
less.  Hence  they  are  often  known  to  despise  it,  and 
to  boast  of  their  having  no  taste  for  it.  But  can  it  be 
that  the  science  of  numbers  and  quantity  ;  the  science 
which  treats  so  essentially  of  the  relations  and  pro 
portions  of  things ;  the  science  which  investigates  and 
establishes  truth  by  the  closest  possible  reasoning,  nay, 
by  the  most  rigid  demonstration,  can  be  a  study  of 
Bmall  value,  or  of  doubtful  benefit  ?  Can  it  be  that 
such  a  science,  either  in  respect  to  its  intrinsic  charac 
ter,  or  its  influence  on  the  minds  of  those  who  study 
it,  can  be  of  little  use  ?  None  but  the  grossly  igno- 


140  PAETICULAR  STUDIES. 

rant  can  entertain  such  an  opinion.  The  fact  is,  as 
the  study  of  language  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  ac 
curate  acquirement,  and  all  successful  communication 
of  knowledge ;  so  the  essential  principles  of  mathema 
tics,  in  the  widest  sense  of  that  term,  may  be  said  to 
enter  more  deeply  into  all  the  processes  of  analysis 
and  demonstrative  reasoning,  than  can  be  stated  in  a 
short  compass.  The  influence  of  this  branch  of  study 
on  the  intellectual  powers,  is  connected  with  the  most 
salutary  discipline.  It  prepares  and  accustoms  the 
mind  to  examine  the  relations  of  things ;  to  deduce 
and  weigh  evidence  ;  to  pursue  close  and  rigid  reason 
ing  ;  and  to  guard  against  the  errors  of  false  deduc 
tion.  Though  you  may  never  have  much  occasion  in 
your  future  lives  to  make  any  direct  use  of  the  algebra 
or  the  geometry  which  you  may  acquire  in  college  ; 
though  you  may  never  be  called  upon  to  survey  a  piece 
of  land,  to  conduct  a  ship  on  the  ocean,  to  calculate  a 
parallax,  or  an  eclipse,  or  to  estimate  the  height  of  a 
mountain,  or  the  distance  of  a  planet ;  though  you 
may  sometimes  imagine,  when  you  are  required  to  re 
peat  the  demonstrations  of  Euclid,  and  to  enter  into 
the  niceties  of  Integral  and  Differential  Calculus,  that 
they  will  never  be  of  any  use  to  you  in  time  to  come ; — 
yet,  be  assured,  there  never  was  a  greater  mistake. 
No  young  man  can  pursue  studies  better  adapted  to  en 
large  and  discipline  his  mind ;  to  subject  it  to  legiti 
mate  rule ;  to  form  the.  best  reasoning  habits ;  to  pre 
pare  him  for  analysing  the  most  abstruse  subjects, 
and  for  tracing  and  collecting  the  most  complicated 
and  diverging  rays  of  evidence.  In  short,  if  I  were 
perfectly  sure  that  my  sons  would  never  have  occasion 
while  they  lived,  to  make  any  immediate  practical  use 
of  a  single  mathematical  study  to  which  they  devoted 
their  time,  I  would  still  say,  by  all  means  study  these 
subjects  with  persevering  diligence  and  ardour.  They 
will  benefit  your  minds,  and  facilitate  the  acquisition 
of  other  branches  of  knowledge  in  a  thousand  ways, 
of  which  you  can  now  very  imperfectly  conceive. 


PARTICULAR  STUDIES.  141 

The  mineralogist,  the  geologist,  the  chemist,  and  the 
professor  of  the  healing  art,  often  need  to  call  mathe 
matical  science  to  their  aid,  as  well  as  the  surveyor, 
the  navigator,  and  the  practical  astronomer.  The  ad 
vocate  at  the  bar,  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  cannot  do 
even  tolerable  justice,  either  ±o  his  cause,  or  his  client, 
without  an  acquaintance  with  the  principles  of  mathe 
matics.  And  scarcely  any  department  of  natural  phi 
losophy  can  be  advantageously  studied,  and  some  of 
them  not  at  all,  without  the  aid  of  this  noble  science. 
Accordingly,  the  author  of  "Lacon,  or  many  things 
in  few  words,"  remarks,  "He  that  gives  a  portion  of 
his  time  and  talent  to  the  investigation  of  mathemati 
cal  truth,  will  come  to  all  other  questions  with  a  deci 
ded  advantage  over  his  opponents.  He  will  be  in  ar 
gument  what  the  ancient  Romans  were  in  the  field. 
To  them  the  day  of  battle  was  a  day  of  comparative 
recreation ;  because  they  were  ever  accustomed  to  ex 
ercise  with  arms  much  heavier  than  those  with  which 
they  fought;  and  their  reviews  differed  from  a  real 
battle  in  two  respects ;  they  encountered  more  fatigue, 
but  the  victory  was  bloodless.'' 

The  young  man,  then,  who  in  the  course  of  his  edu 
cation  neglects  or  undervalues  mathematics,  betrays  an 
ignorance  and  a  narrowness  of  views  of  the  most  igno 
ble  kind.  He  congratulates  himself,  perhaps,  on  a 
conquest  over  his  teachers,  and  on  a  happy  escape  from 
the  demands  of  an  unwelcome  task.  But  he  cheats 
and  injures  himself  a  thousand  fold  more  than  his 
teachers.  He  incurs  a  loss  and  a  disadvantage  which  he 
can  never  repair.  He  foregoes  a  mental  discipline,  and 
a  species  of  mental  furniture,  for  the  want  of  which 
nothing  can  adequately  compensate.  Rely  upon  it, 
the  more  radical  and  complete  your  mathematical  attain 
ments,  the  better  fitted  you  will  be  for  whatever  profes 
sion  you  may  choose ;  the  greater  will  be  your  power  to 
adorn,  and  to  turn  to  the  best  account  any  profession  ; 
the  more  ample  will  be  your  capacity  to  serve  either 
the  church  or  the  world  in  your  generation. 


142  PARTICULAR    STUDIES. 

I  return,  then,  to  the  maxim  with  which  I  began. 
Aim,  as  far  as  possible,  to  stand  at  the  head  of  your 
fellow  students  in  every  study.  Neglect  none :  slight 
none.  It  is  impossible  to  decide  concerning  any  one 
of  them,  that  it  will  not  be  of  essential  use  to  you  in 
after  life.  But  if  you  are  emulous  to  excel  in  any  par 
ticular  branches,  let  them  by  all  means  be  those  which 
I  have  specified.  You  may  be  incredulous  now  of  the 
entire  truth  of  what  has  been  advanced ;  but  by  and  by 
you  will  see  and  acknowledge  it  all.  Let  me  warn  you 
against  postponing  to  admit  and  realize  this  until  it  be 
too  late.  For  if  you  fail  of  making  the  acquirements 
in  question  before  the  close  of  your  course  in  college, 
you  will,  in  all  probability,  never  make  them  at  all. 

In  enumerating  the  particular  studies  which  ought 
to  engage  the  special  regard  of  every  young  man  who 
wishes  to  make  the  most  of  himself,  I  would  mention, 
with  peculiar  emphasis,  the  art  of  composition  in  his 
own  language.  I  know  of  no  accomplishment  more 
adapted  to  increase  the  power  of  an  educated  man. 
Many  an  individual  who  has  been  cut  off  by  disease 
from  the  active  duties  of  a  public  profession,  has  been 
enabled  to  serve  his  country  and  the  Church  of  God 
more  extensively  and  effectually  by  his  pen,  than  he 
could  have  otherwise  done  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  best 
vigour  ;  and  many  others,  who  were  active  and  illus 
trious  in  their  professional  character,  have  rendered 
themselves  still  more  illustrious  and  more  permanently 
useful,  by  their  force  and  eloquence  as  writers.  Would 
any  wise  man  grudge  the  intellectual  labour  which 
should  enable  him  to  write  the  English  language  as  it 
has  been  written  by  the  author  of  Junius  ;  by  Edmund 
Burke  ;  by  Robert  Hall ;  by  Thomas  Chalmers ;  by 
Thomas  Babington  Macaulay,  of  Great  Britain ;  to  say 
nothing  of  a  few  eminent  men  in  our  own  country  ? 
True,  in  the  writings  of  these  men  there  is  great  diver 
sity,  and  each  has  beauties  and  faults  peculiar  to  him 
self  ;  but  in  all  there  is  a  wonderful  power  well  worthy 
of  emulation. 


PARTICULAR   STUDIES.  143 

I  have  spoken  of  the  labour  of  learning  to  write  in 
the  masterly  manner  attained  by  the  eminent  men  just 
mentioned,  and  by  others  of  the  last  and  present  cen 
tury,  whose  names  deserve  a  place  in  the  same  honoura 
ble  list.  And  truly,  I  know  of  no  art  in  which  unwearied, 
persevering  labour  is  more  indispensable  to  the  attain 
ment  of  high  excellence,  than  that  of  which  I  am 
speaking.  It  has  long  been  an  accredited  proverb — 
Poeta  nascitur,  non  fit.  But  there  is  hardly  an  accom 
plishment  to  which  the  principle  of  this  proverb  is  less 
applicable  than  the  art  of  composition.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  some  acquire  it  much  more  easily  and 
readily  than  others  ;  but  in  all  it  requires  a  degree  of 
study  and  of  practice  to  which  very  few  are  willing  to 
submit.  It  requires  such  a  careful  perusal  of  the  best 
writers,  such  a  laborious  comparison  of  different  styles, 
such  a  persevering  study  of  the  principles  of  language, 
and  such  an  indefatigable  repetition  of  efforts,  as  no 
toil  can  discourage.  No  one  ever  wrote  well,  who  did 
not  write  much.  I  care  not  how  great  his  talents,  if 
he  imagines  that  this  kind  of  excellence  will  come,  so 
to  speak,  "  in  the  natural  way,"  and  disdains  the  em 
ployment  of  unwearied  labour  to  attain  it,  he  will  pretty 
certainly  fail  of  success. 

The  instruction  of  experience  on  this  subject  is  am 
ple,  and  very  decisive.  To  illustrate  my  position,  I 
might  adduce  many  signal  examples.  The  late  Charles 
James  Fox,  of  Great  Britain,  as  a  parliamentary  deba 
ter,  was,  perhaps,  never  exceeded.  It  is  probable  that 
no  man  ever  rose  in  the  English  House  of  Commons 
who  displayed  so  much  eloquence  of  the  true  Demos- 
thenian  stamp  as  that  celebrated  statesman.  As  a 
public  speaker,  he  was  simple,  clear,  inexhaustibly  rich, 
profound,  and  transcendently  forcible.  But  when  he 
took  pen  in  hand,  he  fell  far  below  himself.  All  his 
published  works  (except  his  speeches,  which  were  taken 
from  his  lips  by  stenographers)  manifest  a  second  or 
third  rate  writer.  Of  the  same  thing  there  was  quite 
as  signal,  though  not  so  celebrated,  an  example  in  one 


144  PARTICULAR   STUDIES. 

of  the  Southern  States,  nearly  seventy  years  ago.  A 
gentleman  who  had  consummate  powers  as  a  public 
speaker,  who  greatly  exceeded  all  his  fellow  members 
of  the  legislative  body  to  which  he  belonged  in  bold, 
fervid  and  overpowering  eloquence,  was  at  the  same 
time,  with  his  pen,  powerless.  He  could  scarcely  write 
a  common  letter  without  manifesting  an  awkwardness, 
a  feebleness,  and  a  want  of  acquaintance  with  the  most 
obvious  rules  of  grammar,  truly  discreditable. 

Let  me  entreat  you,  then,  from  the  very  commence 
ment  of  your  course  in  college,  to  be  liberal  and  con 
stant  in  the  use  of  the  pen.  Let  no  day  pass  without  writ 
ing  something.  Summon  to  your  aid  in  this  matter  all 
sorts  of  composition.  Write  letters,  speeches,  abstracts 
of  striking,  eloquent  volumes,  which  admit  of  the  pro 
cess  ;  peruse,  and  re-peruse  the  best  models ;  and  spare 
no  pains  to  acquire  the  happy  art  of  embodying  and 
presenting  your  thoughts  in  that  clear,  simple,  direct, 
lively  and  powerful  manner  which  will  indicate  that 
you  are  familiar  with  the  precepts  of  the  elegant 
Horace,  and  with  the  example  of  the  great  Grecian 
orator. 


LETTER  XIII. 


GENERAL    READING. 

"  Nihil  legebat  quod  non  excerperet." — Plin.  Epist. 
"  Ex  animi  relaxatione  divitias  contrahere." — Anon. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — I  take  for  granted  that  your  read 
ing  will  not  be  confined  to  your  class-books.  If  you 
possess  any  measure  of  that  love  of  knowledge,  and  of 
that  activity  and  enlargement  of  mind  which  every 
member  of  a  college  must  be  expected,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  to  desire  and  aim  at,  you  will  endeavour  to 
carry  along  with  you,  through  all  your  college  exercises, 
some  portion  of  what  is  called  general  reading ; — that 
is,  a  kind  and  an  amount  of  reading  which  may  con 
tribute  toward  rendering  you,  not  a  mere  academical 
student,  but  a  liberal  and  general  scholar. 

I  also  hope  that  you  will  see  the  importance  of  sub 
jecting  this  course  of  general  reading  to  some  digested 
plan,  to  a  sound  and  discreet  system  of  rules.  Surely 
one  who  wishes  to  make  the  most  of  the  powers  that 
God  has  given  him,  and  to  reach  the  highest  attain 
ments  in  knowledge,  reputation  and  usefulness,  ought 
not  to  surrender  himself  in  this  matter,  or  in  anything 
else,  to  the  government  of  caprice,  or  of  temporary 
and  spasmodic  feeling.  Nothing  is  likely  to  be  well 
done  which  is  not  conducted  on  a  plan.  I  hope,  there 
fore,  my  dear  sons,  you  will  listen  to  some  counsels 
which  I  have  to  give  you  on  this  subject.  They  may 
not  in  all  respects  accord  with  your  taste  or  your  wishes ; 
but  they  are  the  result  of  some  experience,  and  they 
13  ( 145 ) 


146  GENERAL   READING. 

are  offered  with  the  sincerest  desire  to  promote  your 
highest  honour  and  happiness. 

I  take  for  granted,  indeed,  that  the  studies  pre 
scribed  by  your  instructors  will  be  attended  to  first 
of  all,  and  will  never  be  neglected.  These  have  the 
first  claim  on  your  time  and  attention,  and  cannot, 
without  serious  delinquency,  be  postponed  to  any  inci 
dental  or  capricious  pursuit.  We  are  accustomed  to 
adopt  as  a  maxim,  that  a  man  ought  to  be  just  before 
he  is  generous.  So,  in  the  case  before  us — he  who 
suffers  himself  to  be  drawn  away  to  excursive  and  mis 
cellaneous  objects  of  attention,  while  the  studies  of  his 
class  are  neglected,  may  give  himself  credit  for  liber 
ality  and  enlargement  of  mind ;  but  he  is  guilty  of  a 
fraud  on  himself,  as  well  as  on  his  instructors,  and  will 
find  in  the  end,  that  here,  as  well  as  everywhere  else, 
"honesty  is  the  best  policy."  But  I  hope  your  atten 
tion  to  the  studies  of  your  class  will  be  so  prompt,  so 
zealous,  and  so  seasonably  completed,  as  to  allow  you 
some  portion  of  time  every  day  for  the  reading  of 
which  I  speak. 

Let  your  general  reading,  then,  be  such  as  is 
adapted  to  be  useful.  Think  of  the  great  ends  of 
education.  They  are  to  form  proper  intellectual  and 
moral  habits,  and  to  fill  the  mind  with  solid,  laudable 
knowledge.  And  as  life  is  so  short,  and  the  field  of 
knowledge  so  very  extensive,  we  cannot,  of  course, 
know  everything ;  we  cannot  find  time  to  read  all  the 
books  which  are  worthy  of  being  read.  Of  the  many 
within  our  reach  we  must  make  a  selection ;  and  that 
this  selection  ought  to  be  made  with  discrimination 
and  judgment,  needs  no  formal  proof.  The  studies 
prescribed  by  authority  for  your  classes  will  occupy, 
I  trust,  with  indefatigable  diligence,  the  greater  part 
of  your  time.  Need  I  employ  argument  to  convince 
you  that  the  reading  destined  to  occupy  the  interstitial 
spaces  of  your  time  not  filled  with  prescribed  studies, 
should  be  of  a  kind  adapted  to  unbend,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  to  enlighten,  to  enlarge  and  invigorate  the 


GENERAL   READING.  147 

mind,  and  to  add  to  the  amount  of  its  valuable  furni 
ture? 

And  here,  I  trust,  it  is  unnecessary  to  put  you  on 
your  guard  against  all  that  reading  which  is  adapted 
to  corrupt  the  principles  and  the  heart.  Were  I  to 
hear  that,  under  the  guise  of  enlarged  and  liberal 
reading,  you  were,  in  your  leisure  moments,  poring 
over  the  pages  of  Voltaire,  Helvetius,  and  other  simi 
lar  writers,  I  should  consider  you  as  under  an  awful 
delusion,  and  be  ready  to  weep  over  you,  as  probably 
lost  to  virtue  and  happiness,  to  say  nothing  of  piety. 
The  writers  to  whom  I  have  referred  were  vile  men, 
who  devoted  their  learning  and  talents  to  the  worst 
purposes  ;  who  lived  in  misery,  and  died  in  despair 
themselves ;  and  whose  lives  and  works  were  adapted 
to  corrupt  and  destroy  all  who  held  intercourse  with 
them.  Say  not,  that  he  who  is  forming  his  opinions, 
ought  to  be  willing  to  examine  such  writers,  and  see 
what  they  have  to  say  for  themselves.  I  should  just 
as  soon  regard  with  patience  him  who  should  tell  me, 
that  I  ought  to  examine  and  re-examine  whether  theft, 
lying,  adultery,  and  murder  were  really  wrong,  and 
whether  it  was  not  a  mere  prejudice  to  regard  them 
as  crimes.  No,  my  sons,  be  assured  such  writers  can 
do  you  nothing  but  harm.  Their  impiety  and  com 
plicated  corruption  may  make  you  despise  your  species, 
doubt  of  everything,  hate  your  duty,  and  turn  away 
from  all  the  sober  principles  of  action  and  of  enjoy 
ment  ;  but,  believe  me,  they  will  never  make  you  wiser 
or  happier  men.  Their  speculations  may  be  compared 
to  the  operation  of  poison  received  into  the  animal 
system,  which,  as  long  as  it  is  lodged  there,  can  never 
fail  to  excite  morbid  action,  but  which  can  seldom  or 
never  be  wholly  expelled.  Whatever  may  be  the 
effect  of  your  reading  such  books,  the  result  cannot 
but  be  unhappy.  If  you  adopt  the  errors  which  they 
contain,  they  will  be  your  destruction  for  time  and 
eternity ;  for  they  will  destroy  all  sober  principle,  and 
all  fitness  to  be  useful  in  life.  And  even  if  your  moral 


148  GENERAL  READING. 

constitution  should  be  enabled  to  resist  and  overcome 
the  poison,  it  will  leave  many  an  ache  and  pain,  and 
lay  the  foundation  of  many  a  morbid  feeling  as  long 
as  you  live. 

You  ought,  then,  to  be  as  choice  of  your  books,  for 
what  is  called  general  reading,  as  the  prudent  man, 
who  is  in  delicate  health,  feels  bound  to  be  in  the  selec 
tion  of  his  articles  of  aliment.  There  is  a  wide  range  of 
reading,  comprehending  what  may  properly  be  called 
English  classics,  with  which  every  educated  man  is  ex 
pected  to  have  some  acquaintance.  None  of  the  works 
belonging  to  this  catalogue  are  class-books,  in  the  tech 
nical  sense  of  that  phrase.  Of  course  they  are  not  in 
cluded  in  your  prescribed  studies ;  and  unless  you  gain 
some  knowledge  of  them  by  extra  reading,  you  must 
leave  college  without  being  acquainted  with  them.  This 
would  be  at  once  a  disreputable  deficiency,  and  a  seri 
ous  impediment  in  the  way  of  your  making  the  most 
of  your  college  course.  Surely  before  you  leave  col 
lege  you  ought  to  be  able  to  write  in  your  own  language 
with  elegance  and  force ;  but  how  are  you  to  acquire 
this  power  without  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  some 
of  the  best  writers  of  that  language  ? 

To  the  list  of  authors  of  whom  I  thus  speak,  belong 
Bacon,  Shakspeare  and  Milton,  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  and  Addison,  Steele,  Pope,  Thomson,  Young, 
Goldsmith,  Johnson,  Cowper,  Beattie,  and  a  number 
of  others,  of  the  eighteenth ;  to  which  may  be  added 
Clarendon,  Robertson,  Hume,  and  several  more  who 
have  figured  as  votaries  of  the  historic  muse.  In  this 
catalogue  I  have  forborne  to  insert  the  names  of  some 
writers  greatly  distinguished  as  theologians,  because, 
however  worthy  of  universal  study,  popular  feeling 
does  not  generally  require  that  they  should  be  the 
objects  of  youthful  study.  But  there  are  two  works, 
even  of  this  class,  which  I  cannot  help  singling  out  as 
indispensable  objects  of  attention  on  the  part  of  all 
cultivated  thinkers.  I  refer  to  Butler's  Analogy,  and 
Edwards's  treatise  on  the  Will.  What  would  be  thought 


GENERAL   READING.  149 

of  an  educated  young  man,  who  had  no  acquaintance 
with  any  of  the  eminent  writers  just  named,  but  by 
hearsay  ?  True,  indeed,  a  few  of  these  writers  are  not 
wholly  unexceptionable  in  regard  to  the  moral  charac 
ter  of  some  of  their  pages ;  but  their  intellectual  and 
literary  eminence  is  transcendent ;  and  when  read  with 
discrimination  and  caution,  the  youthful  aspirant  to 
knowledge  and  eloquence  may  derive  from  them  the 
richest  advantages.  The  truth  is,  without  an  acquaint 
ance  with  the  mass  of  these  writers,  you  cannot  appre 
ciate  the  riches,  the  beauties,  or  the  purity  of  your 
vernacular  tongue,  or  hope  successfully  to  train  your 
selves  to  a  good  style  of  writing.  In  these  writers, 
too,  you  will  find  a  great  store-house  of  fine  sentiment, 
as  well  as  of  happy  diction,  adapted  greatly  to  enlarge 
and  elevate  the  mind,  to  impart  to  it  the  highest  pol 
ish,  and  to  prepare  it  for  its  best  efforts.  No  matter 
what  the  profession  may  be  to  which  you  intend  to  de 
vote  your  lives.  In  any  and  every  walk  of  life  you 
will  find  a  familiarity  with  these  English  classics  of  in 
estimable  value.  No  man  ever  heard  Alexander  Ham 
ilton,  or  Daniel  Webster  plead  at  the  bar,  without 
perceiving  the  potency  of  the  weapons  which  they  con 
tinually  derived  from  their  acquaintance  with  this  class 
of  writings.  Who  ever  listened  to  the  speeches  of  John 
Quincy  Adams,  or  Henry  Clay,  or  any  of  their  noble 
compeers,  in  the  Senate-house,  without  recognizing  how 
largely  this  department  of  reading  added  to  the  riches, 
the  fascination,  and  the  power  of  their  eloquence  ?  It 
might  be  supposed,  at  first  view,  that  the  masters  of 
the  healing  art  could  derive  but  little  aid,  either  in 
practising  or  teaching  their  favourite  science,  from  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the  best  English  classics. 
But  the  slightest  acquaintance  with  the  most  distin 
guished  medical  writers  and  teachers  of  Great  Britain, 
will  show  the  egregious  error  of  this  estimate.  And 
who  ever  attended  the  lectures,  or  perused  the  writings 
of  Dr.  Rush,  of  our  own  country,  not  to  mention  others 
still  living,  without  perceiving  what  grace  and  power 
13  <L 


150  GENERAL   READING. 

this  kind  of  knowledge  imparted  to  all  the  products  of 
his  lips  and  his  pen  ?  With  respect  to  the  pulpit,  I 
will  not  insult  your  understandings  by  attempting  to 
show  that  the  large  and  general  reading  of  which  I 
speak,  is  of  inestimable  value  in  its  bearing  on  the 
matter,  as  well  as  the  manner  of  the  instructions  given 
from  week  to  week,  by  those  who  occupy  the  sacred 
desk.  In  short,  he  who  expects  to  be  able  to  address 
his  fellow  men,  in  any  situation,  or  on  any  subject,  in 
an  attractive  and  deeply  impressive  manner,  without 
the  diligent  study  of  the  principles  and  powers  of  the 
language  in  which  he  speaks  or  writes,  cherishes  a  vain 
expectation.  And  he  who  imagines  that  these  princi 
ples  and  powers  are  to  be  learned,  without  the  careful 
study  of  those  writers  who  have  furnished  the  best  ex 
amples  of  both,  might  as  well  hope  to  "  gather  grapes 
of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles." 

If  you  are  wise,  then,  you  will  devote  all  those  hours 
which  you  can  spare  from  your  prescribed  studies  to 
books  which  you  can  turn  to  rich  account  in  disciplining 
and  enlarging  your  minds,  and  in  filling  them  with 
solid  furniture.  Something,  indeed,  in  making  your 
selection,  is  to  be  referred  to  personal  taste ;  for  that 
reading  which  is  not  pursued  con  amore,  as  well  as 
with  close  attention,  will  profit  you  little;  but  still 
judgment  ought  to  be  permitted  to  step  in  and  regu 
late  the  taste.  He  who  refuses  to  do  this,  and  con 
sults  his  inclination,  for  the  time  being  alone,  will,  no 
doubt,  live  and  die  a  very  small  and  probably  useless 
man. 

In  prescribing  a  plan  for  general  reading  for  stu 
dents  in  college,  there  is  one  question  which  I  presume 
you  will  not  fail  to  ask,  and  which  I  wish  to  anticipate 
and  answer  in  this  little  system  of  counsels.  The 
question  is,  whether  novels  ought  to  have  any  place  in 
the  list  of  books  assigned  for  the  "general  reading" 
of  students.  This  is  a  question  of  exceedingly  great 
importance.  When  I  was  myself  a  student  in  a  col 
lege,  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  it  was  far  less  in- 


GENERAL   READING.  151 

teresting  and  momentous  as  a  practical  matter  than  it 
has  now  become.  At  that  time  the  number  of  this 
class  of  writings  was  so  small,  and  their  popular  cir 
culation,  comparatively,  so  inconsiderable,  that  their 
influence  was  scarcely  worthy  of  notice  compared  with 
that  which  they  now  exert,  and  which  they  are  every 
day  extending.  What  amount  of  prevalence  and  of 
influence  they  are  to  reach  at  last,  is  one  of  those  pain 
ful  portents  on  which  I  dare  not  allow  my  mind  to 
dwell.  In  the  meantime,  with  all  the  solicitude  of  a 
father's  heart,  I  will  offer  you  some  counsels  which, 
"whether  you  will  hear  or  whether  you  will  forbear," 
appear  to  me  worthy  of  your  most  serious  regard. 

That  the  form  of  fictitious  history  to  which  the  name 
of  novel*  is  given,  is  not  necessarily  and  in  its  own 
nature  criminal,  will  probably  be  acknowledged  by  all. 
Nay,  that  it  may,  when  constructed  on  proper  princi 
ples,  and  executed  in  a  proper  manner,  be  made  pro 
ductive  of  solid  utility,  is  too  plain  to  be  doubted.  It 
was  on  this  principle  that  the  infinitely  wise  Author  of 
our  holy  religion  frequently  adopted  the  form  of  para 
ble  for  communicating  the  most  important  truths  to  his 
hearers.  And  on  the  same  principle,  some  of  the  wisest 
human  teachers  have  used  the  vehicle  of  lively  and 

*  Many  do  not  seem  to  make  the  proper  distinction  between 
the  terms  Romance  and  Novel.  Yet  there  is  a  distinction  be 
tween  them  which  ought  to  be  kept  up.  Romance  seems  pro 
perly  applicable  only  to  a  narrative  of  extraordinary  adventures, 
not  merely  fictitious,  but  wild,  extravagant,  improbable,  far 
removed  from  common  life,  if  not  bordering  on  the  supernatu 
ral  ;  while  the  word  Novel,  more  strictly,  and  by  exact  speak 
ers  and  writers,  is  intended  to  express  that  species  of  fictitious 
writing  which  professes  to  instruct  or  entertain  by  describing 
common  life  and  real  characters.  The  earliest  fictitious  narra 
tives  were  chiefly  of  the  former  kind.  They  abounded  in  stories 
of  giants,  dragons,  enchanted  castles,  fairies,  ghosts,  and  all  the 
heroic  absurdities  of  knight-errantry.  The  aim  of  those  who 
have  figured  most  in  the  more  recent  class  of  fictitious  narra 
tive  called  novels,  has  been  to  describe  the  natural  and  probable 
exhibitions  of  real  life,  and  of  modern  manners,  and  to  instruct 
by  the  ordinary  scenes  of  social  and  domestic  intercourse. 


152  GENERAL   READING. 

interesting  fiction,  known  to  be  such  at  the  time,  for 
insinuating  into  the  mind  moral  and  religious  lessons, 
which,  in  a  different  form,  might  not  so  readily  have 

fained  admittance.  It  is  obvious,  then,  that  to  this 
ind  of  writing,  as  such,  there  can  be  no  solid  objec 
tion.  Novels  might  be  so  written  as  to  promote  the 
cause  of  knowledge,  virtue,  and  piety  ;  to  lead  the  mind 
insensibly  from  what  is  sordid  and  mean,  to  more  worthy 
pursuits,  and  to  inspire  it  with  elevated  and  worthy 
sentiments.  Nay,  it  may  be  conceded  that  out  of  the 
•  myriads  of  novels  with  which  the  literary  world  has 
been  deluged,  a  few  are,  in  fact,  in  some  degree  enti 
tled  to  this  character,  and  adapted  to  produce  these 
effects. 

But  the  great  unhappiness  of  modern  times  in  regard 
to  this  subject  is  two-fold  ;  first,  in  multiplying  works 
of  this  kind  until  they  bear  an  inordinate  and  injurious 
proportion  in  the  current  literature  of  the  day ;  and, 
secondly,  in  constructing  many  of  them  upon  a  plan 
adapted  to  degrade  virtue  and  piety,  and  even  to  re 
commend  vice,  and,  of  course,  to  prove  seductive  and 
immoral  in  their  whole  influence. 

Even  when  such  works  are  perfectly  unexceptionable 
in  their  moral  character;  when  they  are  wholly  free 
from  anything  corrupt,  either  in  language  or  sentiment, 
they  may  be  productive  of  incalculable  mischief,  if,  as 
now,  they  are  issued  in  excessive  numbers  and  quan 
tity.  Leaving  the  character  of  modern  novels  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  the  enormous  number  of  them, 
which  for  the  last  half  century  has  been  every  day 
increasing,  has  become  a  grievous  intellectual  and  moral 
nuisance.  As  long  as  they  wrere  few  in  number^  and 
were  regarded,  not  as  the  substance,  but  only  as  the 
seasoning  of  the  literary  feast,  they  occupied  but  a 
small  portion  of  public  attention.  The  chief  time  and 
attention  of  the  reading  portion  of  the  community  were 
mainly  devoted  to  works  of  substantial  value,  fitted  to 
strengthen,  enlarge,  and  enrich  the  mind.  But  within 
the  last  thirty  or  forty  years,  the  number  of  works  of 


GENERAL  READING.  153 

tins  class  has  multiplied  so  rapidly  ;  they  have  become 
so  prominent  and  alluring  a  part  of  the  current  litera 
ture  of  the  day;  and  by  their  stimulating  and  inex 
haustible  variety,  have  so  drawn  away  the  minds  of  the 
aged  as  well  as  the  young  from  solid  works,  that  they 
have  come  to  form  the  principal  reading  of  a  large 
portion  of  the  community,  and,  of  course,  have  become 
a  snare  arid  an  injury  to  an  extent  not  easily  calculated. 
As  long  as  exhilarating  gases,  or  other  stimulating  sub 
stances,  are  administered  sparingly,  and  as  medicines, 
they  may  be  altogether  harmless,  and  even  essentially 
useful.  But  when  those  who  have  taken  them  for  some 
time  in  this  manner  become  so  enamoured  with  them 
as  to  be  no  longer  satisfied  with  their  moderate  and 
salutary  use,  but  make  them  their  daily  and  principal 
aliment,  they  become  inevitably  mischievous.  They 
destroy  the  tone  of  the  stomach,  and,  in  the  end,  radi 
cally  undermine  the  health. 

So  it  is  with  the  insidious  excitement  of  novels. 
Were  a  young  man  to  take  none  of  them  into  his 
hands,  but  those  which  might  be  safely  pronounced 
pure  and  innocent ;  and  were  he  certain  that  he  would 
never  be  tempted  to  go  beyond  the  most  moderate 
bounds  in  seeking  and  perusing  even  such,  there  would, 
perhaps,  be  little  danger  to  be  apprehended.  But  no 
one  can  be  thus  certain  of  either.  The  general  stimu 
lus  of  fictitious  narrative,  as  actually  administered,  is 
morbid  and  mischievous.  It  excites  the  mind,  but 
cannot  fill  or  nourish  it.  The  probability  is,  that  he 
who  allows  himself  to  enter  this  course,  will  be  led  on, 
like  the  miserable  tippler,  from  one  stage  of  indulgence 
to  another,  until  his  appetite  is  perverted ;  his  power 
of  self-denial  and  self-government  lost ;  and  his  ruin 
finally  sealed ;  or,  at  least,  his  mind  so  completely  in 
disposed  and  unfitted  for  the  sober  realities  of  practical 
wisdom,  for  the  pursuits  of  solid  science  and  literature, 
as  to  be  consigned  to  the  class  of  superficial  drivellers 
as  long  as  he  lives. 

The  truth  is,  novels — even  the  purest  and  best  of 


154  GENERAL   READING. 

them — with  very  few  exceptions,  are   adapted,  not  to 
instruct,  but  only  to  amuse ;  not  to  enrich  or  strengthen 
the  mind,  but  only  to  exhilarate  it.      They  bear  very 
much  the  same  relation  to  genuine  mental  aliment,  that 
the  alcoholic  dram  does  to  solid  food.    They  ever  ener 
vate  the   mind.     They  generate  a  sickliness  of  fancy, 
and  render  the  ordinary  affairs  and  duties  of  life  alto 
gether  uninteresting  and  insipid.   After  wading  through 
hundreds  of  the  most  decent  and  popular  volumes  be 
longing  to  this  class — what  has  been  gained  ?     After 
consuming   so  many  months  of  precious  time — time 
which  can   never   be   recalled — in  this  reading,  what 
has  been  acquired  ?  what  has  been  laid  up  for  future 
use  ?     Nothing — absolutely  nothing  !     Not  a  trace  of 
anything  really  useful  has  been  left  behind.     The  days 
and  nights  devoted  to   their  perusal  have  been  lost — 
totally  lost.      What  infatuation  is  it  for  a  rational 
creature,  who   is  sent  into  the  world  for  serious  and 
important  purposes,  and  who  is  hastening  to  a  solemn 
account,   thus   to   waste  precious   time ;  and,  what  is 
worse,  thus  to  pervert   his  mind,  and,  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  to  disqualify  himself  for  sober   employ 
ments  1      The  celebrated  Dr.  Goldsmith,  in  writing  to 
his  brother,  respecting  the   education  of  his   son,  ex 
presses  himself  in   the  following  strong  terms,  which 
are  the  more   remarkable   as   he   himself  had  written 
one  of  the  most  popular  novels  : — "  Above  all  things, 
never  let  your   son  touch  a  romance  or  novel.     These 
paint  beauty  in  colours   more   charming  than   nature, 
and  describe  happiness  that  man  never  tastes.     How 
delusive,  how  destructive  are  those  pictures  of  consum 
mate  bliss  !      They  teach  the  youthful  mind   to  sigh 
after  beauty  and  happiness  which  never   existed  ;  to 
despise  the  little  good  which  fortune  has  mixed  in  our 
cup,  by  expecting  more   than  she  ever  gave ;  and,  in 
general,  take   the  word  of  a   man  who  has  seen  the 
world,  and  has  studied  human  nature  more  by  experience 
than  precepts — take   my  word  for  it,  I  say,  that  such 
books  teach  us  very  little  of  the  world."     He  might 


GENERAL   READING.  155 

have  gone  further  and  said,  they  teach  us  little  of  any 
thing  worth  knowing,  and  so  pervert  the  taste  as  to 
take  away  all  relish  for  applying  the  mind  to  anything 
sober  or  useful.  Often  have  I  known  young  men  so 
bewitched  by  novels  that  they  could  read  nothing  else. 
They  sought  for  new  works  of  this  class  in  every  direc 
tion  ;  devoured  them  with  insatiable  avidity  ;  lost  all 
relish  for  their  regular  prescribed  studies ;  neglected 
those  studies  more  and  more ;  and  at  length  closed 
their  college  course  miserable  scholars,  and  utterly  un 
qualified  for  any  sober  pursuit. 

But  there  is  another  source  of  evil  in  this  depart 
ment  of  literature,  still  more  serious  and  formidable. 
A  very  large  proportion  of  modern  novels  are  far  from 
being  innocent.  They  are  positively  seductive  and 
corrupting  in  their  tendency.  They  make  virtue  to 
appear  contemptible,  and  vice  attractive,  honourable, 
and  triumphant.  Folly  and  crime  have  palliative  and 
even  commendatory  names  bestowed  upon  them.  The 
omnipotence  of  love  over  all  obligations  and  all  duties, 
is  continually  maintained,  and  the  extravagance  of 
sinful  passion  represented  as  the  effect  of  amiable  sen 
sibility.  That  some  ladies,  and  even  titled  ladies,  have 
appeared  in  the  lists  of  authorship  of  such  works,  is 
one  of  the  mournful  indications  of  the  taste  of  the 
present  day,  and  no  unequivocal  testimony  of  the 
danger  of  this  class  of  writings.  And  though  works 
of  this  character  may  be,  at  first,  contemplated  with 
abhorrence,  no  one  can  tell  how  soon  the  mind  may  be 
gradually  and  insidiously  reconciled  to  them,  by  fami 
liarity  with  their  pestiferous  and  infectious  sentiments. 

There,  is,  indeed,  a  portion  of  modern  novels,  which 
millions  of  the  young  and  the  old  have  read  with  eager 
delight,  and  pronounced  not  only  innocent  but  useful ; 
adapted  to  enlarge  our  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
and  to  inspire  generous  and  benevolent  sentiments. 
These  are  the  numerous  works  of  this  class  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  and  the  later  and  less  celebrated,  but 
highly  popular  works  of  Mr.  Dickens,  of  South  Britain. 


156  GENERAL   READING. 

With  regard  to  the  former,  I  am  constrained  to  say, 
that  my  estimate  is  less  favourable  than  that  of  many 
who  admire  and  praise  them.  Of  the  great  talents  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  as  evinced  in  these  and  other  writ 
ings,  no  competent  judge  can  entertain  a  doubt;  and 
that  his  novels  abound  in  elevated  sentiments,  in 
graphic  delineation,  and  in  powerful  diction,  from 
which  the  aspirant  to  high  literary  and  moral  excellence 
may  learn  much,  is  equally  evident.  But  those  who 
read  intelligently  such  of  his  works  as  profess  to  take 
a  retrospect  of  Scottish  history,  interwoven  with  fic 
tion,  if  capable  of  making  a  proper  estimate  of  the 
times  and  characters  which  ife  undertakes  to  portray, 
will  perceive  that  the  writer  arrays  himself  against  the 
patriotism  and  the  piety  of  some  of  the  best  men  that 
ever  adorned  the  history  of  his  country ;  that  he  ex 
hibits  orthodoxy  and  zeal  under  the  guise  of  enthusiasm 
and  fanaticism  ;  that  he  strives  to  cover  with  dishonour 
"men  of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,"  and  to 
elevate  and  canonize  their  persecutors ;  in  short,  that 
the  general  influence  of  his  works  is  wholly  unfriendly 
to  religion.  These  characteristics  pervade  some  of  the 
most  popular  of  his  novels.  Ought  I,  can  I,  consist 
ently  with  the  most  sacred  obligations,  advise  that 
such  books  be  put  into  the  hands  of  inexperienced  and 
unsuspecting  youth,  unaware  of  danger,  and  at  an  age, 
and  in  circumstances,  most  likely  to  receive  serious 
injury  ? 

The  later  and  highly  popular  novels  of  Mr.  Dickens, 
are  not  liable  to  the  most  serious  of  these  objections. 
They  abound  in  just,  and  sometimes  in  striking  senti 
ments,  strongly  and  happily  expressed ;  and  they  lay 
open  pictures  of  real  life,  chiefly  of  the  most  sordid, 
vulgar  and  vile  character,  well  adapted  to  impart  to 
youthful  readers  a  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  espe 
cially  of  the  selfish,  fraudulent,  and  degraded  world. 
This  is  the  most  favourable  side  of  the  portrait.  The 
most  serious  objections  are,  that  they  render  the  youth 
ful  mind  familiar  with  the  ingenuity  and  the  arts  of 


GENERAL   READING.  157 

low  and  vulgar  crime ;  that  they  introduce  their 
readers,  as  it  were,  behind  the  scenes  in  the  drama  of 
systematic  and  revolting  wickedness ;  and  while  they 
tend,  more  than  most  writings  of  this  class,  to  absorb 
the  mind,  and  give  it  a  distaste  for  solid  knowledge, 
they  impart  nothing  which  can  be  considered  as  an 
equivalent  for  that  which  is  lost. 

Estimating  novels,  then,  not  as  they  might  be  made, 
but  as  they  are  in  fact,  it  may  be  asserted  that  there 
is  no  species  of  reading  which,  habitually  and  promis 
cuously  pursued,  has  a  more  direct  tendency  to  dissi 
pate  and  weaken  the  intellectual  powers  ;  to  discourage 
the  acquisition  of  valuable  knowledge  ;  to  fill  the  mind 
with  vain,  unnatural,  and  delusive  ideas ;  and  to  de 
prave  the  moral  taste.  It  would,  perhaps,  be  difficult 
to  assign  any  single  cause  which  has  contributed  so 
much  to  produce  that  lightness  and  frivolity  which  so 
remarkably  characterize  the  literary  taste  of  the  nine 
teenth  century,  as  the  unexampled  multiplication,  and 
the  astonishing  popularity  of  this  class  of  writings. 

I  have,  therefore,  no  hesitation,  my  dear  sons,  in 
saying,  that,  if  it  were  practicable,  I  would  wholly 
exclude  novels  from  your  general  reading  ;  not  be 
cause  there  are  none  which  may  be  perused  with  some 
profit ;  but  because  the  hope  that,  out  of  the  polluted 
and  pestiferous  mass  continually  presented  to  the 
youthful  mind,  a  tolerably  wise  choice  will  generally, 
or  even  in  many  instances,  be  made,  can  scarcely  be 
thought  a  reasonable  hope.  If  I  could  hope  to  succeed, 
then,  in  such  counsel,  I  would  say,  throw  away  all  your 
novels.  If  you  wish  to  form  a  sober,  practical,  robust 
intellectual  character,  throw  them  all  away  ;  banish 
them  from  your  study.  They  will  never  help  you  in 
reaching  either  usefulness  or  solid  fame. 

As,  however,  these  fictitious  productions  are  strewed 
around  us  in  such  profusion,  and  will  more  or  less  ex 
cite  the  curiosity  of  youth,  the  plan  of  total  exclusion 
is  seldom  practicable.  In  these  circumstances  it  is, 
perhaps,  the  wisest  course  to  endeavour  to  restrain  and 
14 


5  GENERAL   READING. 

regulate  the  curiosity  which  cannot  be  wholly  repressed, 
and  to  exercise  the  utmost  vigilance  in  making  a  proper 
choice  for  its  gratification,  and  in  restricting  this  gra 
tification  within  the  smallest  possible  bounds.  For  it 
may,  with  confidence,  be  pronounced,  that  no  one  was 
ever  an  extensive,  and  especially  an  habitual  reader 
of  novels,  even  supposing  them  all  to  be  well  selected, 
without  suffering  both  intellectual  and  moral  injury, 
and,  of  course,  incurring  a  diminution  of  happiness. 

But  the  trash  which  is  everywhere  spread  around 
the  youth  of  our  land,  under  the  name  of  novels,  is 
not  the  only  form  of  light  reading  that  is  adapted  to 
dissipate  the  mind,  to  degrade  the  taste,  and  to  work 
intellectual  and  moral  injury  in  all  who  yield  to  the 
prevalent  mania.  The  time  that  is  devoted  by  the 
young  men  in  our  literary  institutions  to  the  perusal 
of  literary  and  political  journals,  of  magazines,  and 
the  multiplied  forms  of  light  periodicals,  which  every 
where  solicit  their  attention,  forms  so  serious  an  evil, 
that  every  student  who  values  his  time,  and  desires  to 
attain  the  solid  improvement  of  his  talents,  ought 
to  be  aware  of  it,  and  from  the  outset  of  his  course, 
to  be  on  his  guard  against  it.  The  fact  is,  the  number  of 
ephemeral  periodicals  has  become  so  enormously  great, 
and  they  every  day  so  importunately  solicit  the  atten 
tion  of  those  who  have  any  taste  for  reading,  that  they 
leave  little  time  for  studying  anything  better.  Nor  is  this 
all.  They  distract  the  attention  of  the  student ;  seduce 
him  from  sources  of  more  profound,  systematic,  and 
useful  information  ;  and  are  fitted  to  form  pedants  and 
index  hunters,  rather  than  men  of  real  erudition.  On 
this  account,  the  reading  of  literary  young  men,  within 
the  last  forty  or  fifty  years,  has  become  far  less  solid 
than  formerly.  Many  of  the  best  works  of  the  seven 
teenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  have  been  crowded  out 
of  view  by  comperids,  compilations,  and  a  thousand 
ephemeral  productions  ;  riot  merely  because  the  taste 
for  better  works  has  been  in  a  great  measure  lost,  by 
superficial  habits ;  but  because  the  number  of  these 


GENERAL  READING.  159 

ephemeral  and  catchpenny  trifles  is  so  great  as  abso 
lutely  to  leave  little  time,  and,  in  many  cases,  no  time 
for  anything  better. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  seventeenth  century  was 
the  age  of  genius.  The  eighteenth,  it  is  acknowledged, 
exceeded  it  in  taste ;  but  in  original  powerful  thinkers, 
the  seventeenth  appears  to  me  to  stand  unrivaled. 
He  who  will  look  over  the  list  of  the  eminent  men  who, 
during  that  century,  adorned  Great  Britain  and  the 
continent  of  Europe,  will  be,  I  cannot  doubt,  of  the 
opinion,  that  no  such  catalogue  can  be  found  in  any 
other  age  of  the  last  eighteen  hundred  years.  To  say 
nothing  of  the  illustrious  divines  who  distinguished 
that  period,  who  can  recollect  the  names  of  Bacon, 
Shakspeare,  Newton,  Selden,  Boyle,  Hale,  Locke, 
Milton,  Coke,  Des  Cartes,  Grotius,  Leibnitz,  Galileo, 
the  Bernoulis,  and  many  more,  without  feeling  that 
they  were  among  the  mightiest  minds  that  the  world 
ever  saw  ?  These  men  were  the  great  original  thinkers 
of  modern  times  ;  and  certainly  those  who  allow  them 
selves  to  be  ignorant  of  their  works,  forego  one  of  the 
richest  means  of  enlightening  and  invigorating  the 
mind  within  their  reach.  How  unwise,  then,  are  those 
youth,  who,  while  they  profess  to  be  students,  profess 
to  be  seeking  the  best  improvement  of  their  talents, 
the  best  preparation  to  shine  in  the  highest  walks  of 
life,  really  adopt  a  course  adapted  to  make  them  superfi 
cial  triflers,  instead  of  men  of  solid,  profound,  and 
powerful  accomplishments  !  Rely  upon  it,  if  you  wish 
to  take  rank  with  any  of  the  eminent  men  whose  names 
have  been  mentioned  as  adorning  the  seventeenth 
century,  or  even  with  many  who  have  appeared  in  our 
own  country  within  the  last  fifty  years,  you  must 
devote  yourselves  as  they  did,  to  solid,  systematic,  a'nd 
unwearied  study,  and  not  waste  your  time  with  the 
periodicals  and  compends  which  may,  from  time  to 
time,  engage  the  popular  attention. 

After  writing  the  above,  I  was  not  a  little  gratified 
to  find  my  opinion  confirmed  by  so  competent  an  autho- 


160  GENERAL  READING. 

rity  as  that  of  Judge  Story,  of  Massachusetts,  whose 
taste,  scholarship,  and  sound  judgment  impart  pecu 
liar  weight  to  his  decisions  oh  such  a  subject,  espe 
cially  when  it  is  recollected  that  none  who  know 
him  will  ascribe  to  him  that  tendency  to  puritanical 
rigour,  that  may  be  thought  by  some  to  be  allied  to  such 
counsels  as  have  been  expressed. 

In  a  late  discourse,  addressed  to  the  Alumni  of  his 
Alma  Mater,  in  which  he  treats  of  "  the  dangers,  the 
difficulties,  and  the  duties  of  scholars  in  our  own  age, 
and  especially  in  our  own  country,"  that  eminent  scholar 
and  jurist  delivers  the  following  opinions,  which  I  hope 
you  will  seriously  consider: 

"  Who  that  looks  around  him  does  not  perceive,  what 
a  vast  amount  of  the  intellectual  power  and  energy  of  our 
own  country  is  expended,  not  to  say  exhausted,  upon 
temporary  and  fugitive  topics, — upon  occasional  ad 
dresses — upon  light  and  fantastic  compositions — upon 
manuals  of  education,  and  hand-books  of  instruction, — 
upon  annotations  and  excerpts, — and  upon  the  busy 
evanescent  discussions  of  politics,  which  fret  their  hour 
upon  the  stage,  or  infest  the  halls  of  legislation  ?  Need 
we  be  told  that  honours  thus  acquired  melt  away  at  the 
very  moment  when  we  grasp  them ;  that  some  new 
wonder  will  soon  usurp  their  place ;  and,  in  its  turn, 
will  be  chased  away  or  dissolved  by  the  next  bubble  or 
flying  meteor  ?  I  know  that  it  has  sometimes  been 
said,  that  '  nothing  popular  can  be  frivolous ;  and  that 
what  influences  multitudes  must  be  of  proportionate 
importance.'  A  more  dangerous  fallacy,  lurking  under 
the  garb  of  philosophy,  could  scarcely  be  stated.  There 
would  be  far  more  general  truth  in  the  statement  of  the 
very  reverse  proposition.  Our  lecture-rooms  and  lyce- 
ums  are  crowded,  day  after  day,  and  night  after  night, 
with  those  who  seek  instruction  without  labour,  and 
demand  improvement  without  effort.  We  have  abun 
dance  of  zeal,  and  abundance  of  curiosity  enlisted  in 
the  cause,  with  little  aim  at  solid  results,  or  practical 
ends.  It  seems  no  longer  necessary,  in  the  view  of 


GENERAL   READING.  161 

many  persons,  for  students  to  consume  their  midnight 
lamps  in  pale  and  patient  researches, — or  in  communing 
with  the  master  spirits  of  other  days, — or  in  interro 
gating  the  history  of  the  past, — or  in  working  out,  with 
a  hesitating  progress,  the  problem  of  human  life.  An 
attendance  upon  a  few  courses  of  lectures  upon  science, 
or  art,  or  literature,  amidst  brilliant  gas-lights,  or  bril 
liant  experiments,  or  brilliant  discourses  of  accomplished 
rhetoricians,  is  deemed  a  satisfactory  substitute  for  hard 
personal  study,  in  all  the  general  pursuits  of  life.  Nay, 
the  capital  stock  thus  acquired  may  be  again  retailed 
out  to  less  refined  audiences,  and  give  ready  fame  and 
profit  to  the  second-hand  adventurer. 

"  It  is  an  old  saying,  that  there  is  no  royal  road  to 
learning  ;  and  it  is  just  as  true  now  as  it  was  two  thou 
sand  years  ago.  Knowledge,  deep,  thorough,  accu 
rate,  must  be  sought,  and  can  be  found  only  by 
strenuous  labour,  not  for  months,  but  for  years ;  not 
for  years,  but  for  a  whole  life.  What  lies  on  the  sur 
face  is  easily  seen,  and  easily  measured.  What  lies 
below  is  slowly  reached,  and  must  be  cautiously  ex 
amined.  The  best  ore  may  often  require  to  be  sifted 
and  purified.  The  diamond  slowly  receives  its  polish 
under  the  hands  of  the  workman,  and  then  only  gives 
out  its  sparkling  lights.  The  very  marble  whose  massy 
block  is  destined  to  immortalize  some  great  name,  re 
luctantly  yields  to  the  chisel ;  and  years  must  elapse 
before  it  becomes  (as  it  were)  instinct  with  life,  and 
stands  forth  the  breathing  image  of  the  original. 

"It  cannot  admit  of  the  slightest  doubt  (at  least  in 
my  judgment)  that  the  habit  of  desultory  and  miscel 
laneous  reading,  thus  created,  has  a  necessary  tendency 
to  enervate  the  mind,  and  to  destroy  all  masculine 
thinking.  Works  of  a  solid  cast,  which  require  close 
-attention  and  exact  knowledge  to  grapple  with  them, 
are  thrown  aside,  as  dull  and  monotonous.  We  apolo 
gize  to  ourselves  for  our  neglect  of  them,  that  they 
may  be  taken  up  at  a  more  convenient  season  ;  or  we 
flatter  ourselves  that  we  have  sufficiently  mastered  thek 
14*  J 


162  GENERAL   READING. 

contents  and  merits  from  the  last  Review,  although, 
in  many  cases,  it  may  admit  of  a  doubt,  whether  the 
critic  himself  has  ever  read  the  work.  Without  stop 
ping  to  inquire,  how  many  of  the  whole  class  of  literary 
readers  now  study  with  thoughtful  diligence,  the  stand 
ard  writers  in  our  own  language,  and  are  not  content 
with  abridgments,  or  manuals,  or  extracts,  I  would 
put  it  to  those  who  are  engaged  in  the  learned  profes 
sions,  and  have  the  most  stringent  motives  for  deep, 
thorough,  and  exact  knowledge — I  would  put  it  to  them . 
to  say,  how  many  of  their  whole  number  devote  them 
selves  to  the  study  of  the  great  masters  of  their  pro 
fession  ;  how  many  of  them  can,  in  the  sober  lan 
guage  of  truth,  say,  We  are  at  home  in  the  pages  of  our 
profoundest  authors;  we  not  only  possess  them  to  en 
rich  our  libraries,  but  we  devote  ourselves  to  the  daily 
consultation  of  them.  They  are  beside  us  at  our  fire 
sides,  and  they  cheer  our  evening  studies.  We  live 
and  breathe  in  the  midst  of  their  laborious  researches, 
and  systematical  learning."* 

Such  are  the  sentiments  of  this  eminent  man.  I 
know  that,  in  your  sober  judgment,  you  cannot  but 
approve  them.  If  so,  let  it  be  seen  that  you  begin 
now,  even  within  the  college  walls,  to  waste  as  little 
time  as  possible  on  the  ephemeral  trifles  of  the  day, 
and  to  employ  as  much  as  possible  on  those  rich  works 
of  classical  character  and  value,  every  one  of  which 
will  add  something  to  your  permanent  stores  of  intel 
lectual  wealth. 

But  if  you  wish  to  profit  much  by  this  counsel,  you 
must  have  a  plan  about  it.  Resolve,  then,  that  you 
will  be  a  sparing  reader  of  periodicals  of  every  kind. 
Seldom  allow  yourselves  to  employ  many  minutes  over 
a  newspaper,  unless  it  be  to  peruse  a  great  speech,  or 
some  other  document  of  more  than  common  interest.- 
A  large  part  of  the  reading  furnished  by  our  newspa- 

*  A  Discourse  delivered  before  the  Society  of  the  Alumni  of 
Harvard  University.  By  JOSEPH  STORY,  LL.  D. 


.  GENERAL   READING.  163 

pers  is  of  a  highly  demoralizing  character ;  and  the 
greater  portion  of  those  which  belong  to  the  penny 
class,  are  most  polluting  in  their  tendency.  Turn  from 
magazines  and  novels  as  you  would  from  a  suspicious, 
not  to  say,  an  infected  region  ;  touching  none  of  them, 
or,  if  any,  none  but  a  few  of  the  best,  and  devoting  as 
little  time  as  possible  even  to  them.  Keep  constantly 
at  your  elbow,  in  a  course  of  reading,  some  English 
classic,  adapted  at  once  to  cultivate  your  taste  and  add 
to  your  stock  of  knowledge  ;  and  to  be  taken  up  when 
your  prescribed  labour  is  terminated.  How  much  bet 
ter  to  have  a  system  of  this  sort,  than  to  pass  the 
hours  of  relaxation  from  the  studies  of  your  class, 
either  in  perfect  idleness  and  ennui,  or  in  reading  the 
most  worthless,  not  to  say  the  vilest  trash,  that  is  so 
often  engaging  the  attention  of  students  who  profess  to 
aim  at  the  attainment  of  liberal  knowledge  !  If  the 
plan  I  have  recommended,  or  anything  like  it,  were 
faithfully  pursued,  every  student  of  college,  before  the 
close  of  his  regular  course,  would  be  familiar  with  the 
best  masters  of  sentiment,  of  diction,  and  of  knowledge 
that  the  English  language  affords. 

But  I  hope  you  will  not  confine  your  general  reading 
to  the  English  language.  That  student  in  college  is 
greatly  wanting  to  himself,  who,  in  the  present  ex 
tended,  and  greatly  extending  intercourse  among 
nations,  does  not  labour,  as  far  as  possible,  to  become 
acquainted  with  several  modern  languages,  and  espe 
cially  with  the  French  and  German.  The  subserviency 
of  these  languages  to  professional  eminence  and  suc 
cess  is  obvious.  I  have  repeatedly  known  lawyers  and 
physicians  who  resided  in  populous  places,  submit,  late 
in  life,  to  the  labour  of  acquiring  both  those  languages, 
because  they  perceived  that  the  possession  of  them 
would  serve  as  an  introduction  to  a  large  portion  of 
lucrative  business.  How  much  better  would  it  have 
been  for  such  persons  to  have  acquired  a  knowledge 
of  these  languages  in  college ;  at  an  age  when  a  new 
language  is  more  easily  gained  than  in  more  advanced 


164  GENERAL    READING. 

life,  and  when  the  range  of  its  utility  would  have  been 
far  greater!  I  rejoice  to  know  that  you  have  not  been 
inattentive  to  the  languages  specified,  and  that  you 
are  in  some  measure  prepared  to  avail  yourselves  of 
the  benefits  to  which  they  may  be  made  subservient. 

Let  a  part  of  your  general  reading  be  in  those  lan 
guages  ;  as  well  for  the  enlargement  of  your  know 
ledge,  as  for  the  increase  of  your  familiarity  with  dif 
ferent  dialects.  In  French,  read  such  works  as  Fene- 
lon's  Telemaque ;  the  sermons  of  Massillon,  Bossuet, 
Bourdaloue,  and  Saurin ;  Voltaire's  Sieclc  de  Louis 
XIV.  et  XV.,  and  Histoire  de  Charles  XII.,  and  his 
La  Henriade,  (avoiding  the  great  mass  of  the  other 
works  of  that  profligate  infidel ;)  together  with  the 
works  of  Chateaubriand,  Lamartine,  De  Tocqueville, 
Guizot,  and  Ballanche,  of  the  present  day,  and  espe 
cially  Professor  Merle  d'Aubigne's  Histoire  de  la  Re 
formation,  a  most  instructive  and  graphic  work,  and  to 
read  which  in  the  original,  it  would  be  well  worth  while 
to  acquire  the  French  language. 

With  regard  to  German  reading,  my  knowledge  is 
too  scanty  to  enable  me  to  speak  in  a  very  adequate  or 
discriminating  manner.  But  I  may,  without  hesita 
tion,  recommend  that  the  hours  bestowed  upon  it  may 
be  given  to  the  writings  of  such  men  as  Klopstock, 
Gellert,  Wieland,  Herder,  Goethe,  Schiller,  and  a  few 
more,  whose  character  you  will  readily  learn  from  Ger 
man  scholars.  It  is  to  be  lamented  that  -the  writings 
of  most  of  these  men  ought  to  be  read  with  caution, 
as  by  no  means  wholly  faultless  in  their  tendency. 
Still,  in  a  literary  point  of  view,  they  may  be  consid 
ered  as  holding  a  high  place  in  the  country  to  which 
they  belong,  and  as  among  the  best  that  can  be  recom 
mended  to  those  who  wish  for  a  small  amount  of  select 
German  reading. 

It  will  readily  be  perceived,  from  all  that  has  been 
said,  that  the  thing  popularly  called  general  reading, 
is  a  matter  of  no  small  importance ;  that  it  affords  a 
noble  opportunity  for  enriching  the  mind  with  valuable 


GENERAL   READING.  165 

knowledge  ;  that  the  variety  in  this  field,  which  solicits 
the  attention  of  the  scholar,  is  immense  ;  and,  of  course, 
that  he  who  wastes  the  precious  hours,  which  he  can 
afford  to  devote  to  this  employment,  in  the  perusal  of 
works  frivolous,  corrupt,  or,  to  say  the  least,  wholly 
unprofitable,  is  equally  foolish  and  criminal.  The  truth 
is,  a  wise  youth  may  render  his  general  reading  as  es 
sentially  subservient  to  his  ultimate  success  in  life,  as 
the  most  solid  prescribed  study  in  which  he  can  engage. 


LETTER  XIII. 
ATTENTION.— DILIGENCE. 

TO  rtav." — Periander. 


"  Nil  sine  magno 

Vita  labore  dedit  mortalibus." — Hor. 


MY  DEAR  SONS— When  man  fell  from  God,  a  part 
of  the  sentence  pronounced  upon  him,  in  the  way  of 
penalty,  was— "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  thou  shalt 
eat  thy  bread."  It  was  indeed  a  penalty;  and,  of 
course,  all  the  labour  and  toil  connected  with  success 
in  life,  ought  to  remind  us  of  our  fallen  nature,  and 
humble  us  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God.  But  the 
penalty  in  this,  and  in  many  other  cases,  has  been  con 
verted  by  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  into  a  bless 
ing.  The  great  law  of  our  being,  that  we  shall  eat  our 
bread  in  the  sweat  of  our  brow,  extends  much  further 
than  is  commonly  imagined.  Many  understand  it  as 
applying  only  to  the  common  labourer.  But  it  applies 
to  all.  All  who  would  enjoy  life — all  who  would  have 
bread  to  eat  in  plenty  and  comfort,  must  labour  for  it 
either  in  body  or  mind.  And  is  it  not  a  mercy  that 
the  providence  of  God  has  so  ordered  it  ?  What  would 
be  the  consequence  if  all  could  eat  and  drink,  and  en 
joy  the  luxuries  of  life  to  their  heart's  content,  with 
out  labour  ?  Would  it  not  dissolve  the  bonds  of  society, 
and  convert  the  world  into  a  real  hell  ?  The  law  of 
labour,  in  one  form  or  another  impressed  upon  all  men, 
tends  to  promote  their  health,  both  of  body  and  iniud  • 
(106) 


ATTENTION — DILIGENCE.  167 

to  excite,  invigorate  and  expand  their  faculties  ;  to  pre 
serve  them  from  the  rust  of  inaction,  and  the  snares 
of  idleness ;  to  discipline  and  elevate  both  the  intel 
lectual  and  moral  character,  and  to  make  man  a  helper 
and  a  blessing  to  man. 

You  ought  to  regard  it,  then,  not  as  a  misfortune, 
but  as  a  blessing,  that  much  knowledge  is  not  to  be 
gained,  nor  a  high  reputation  established,  without  much 
labour.  Of  course  I  cannot  sympathize  with  those  who 
lament  this  arrangement  of  Providence.  Rather  ought 
we  all  to  rejoice  in  it,  as  one  of  the  multiplied  eviden 
ces  of  that  adorable  wisdom  and  benignity,  which 
brings  light  out  of  darkness,  order  out  of  confusion, 
and  results  the  most  blessed  and  happy  out  of  circum 
stances  painful  to  our  natural  feelings/ 

I  take  for  granted  that  my  sons,  after  going  so  far 
in  the  attainment  of  what  is  called  a  liberal  education, 
expect  to  get  their  living  without  mechanical  labour. 
But  if  they  hope  to  accomplish  anything  worthy  of 
pursuit,  either  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  or  in 
the  formation  of  good  intellectual  and  moral  habits, 
and  serving  their  generation  acceptably  and  usefully, 
without  much  labour  and  toil,  they  were  never  more 
deluded.  If  one  old  heathen  could  say,  in  the  language 
of  the  mottoes,  which  stand  at  the  head  of  this  letter, 
"  In  this  life  nothing  is  given  to  mortals,  without  great 
labour ;"  and  another,  a  Industry  and  care  effect  every 
thing  ;"  much  more  strongly  arid  clearly  is  the  same 
lesson  taught  by  the  word  of  God,  and  by  uniform  ex 
perience.  Think  not  that  what  is  called  genius,  or 
even  the  highest  order  of  talents,  even  if  you  could 
persuade  yourselves  that  you  possessed  them,  would 
exempt  you  from  the  law  of  patient  labour.  The 
greatest  men  that  ever  adorned  and  benefited  human 
nature,  have  found  it  otherwise.  The  fact  is,  any  sin 
gle  branch,  either  of  literature  or  science,  if  we  would 
thoroughly  master  it,  is  deep  enough  and  wide  enough, 
to  keep  indefatigably  busy  the  most  vigorous  and  ac 
tive  mind  for  a  long  lifetime.  How  much  more  the 


168  ATTENTION — DILIGENCE. 

multiplied  branches,  which  he,  who  aspires  to  shine  in 
any  one  of  the  learned  professions,  is  compelled  to  ex 
plore  !  There  is,  no  doubt,  great  diversity  in  regard 
to  the  ease  and  readiness  with  which  some  minds  ac 
quire  knowledge  compared  with  others.  But  in  no 
case  whatever  can  a  large  amount  of  knowledge,  on  any 
subject,  be  gained  without  much  patient  labour.  And 
it  is  simply  the  want  of  a  disposition  to  submit  to  this 
labour  which  makes  so  many  miserable  scholars,  and 
which  stands  in  the  way  of  that  success  in  life  which 
might  have  been  otherwise  easily  and  certainly  com 
manded. 

A  defect  here,  my  dear  sons,  lies  more  frequently 
and  more  deeply  at  the  foundation  of  those  failures  to 
get  forward  in  life,  which  are  so  frequently  seen  and 
lamented,  than  is  commonly  imagined.  One  of  the 
most  sagacious  and  successful  managers  of  secular 
business  that  I  ever  knew,  who  was,  for  many  years,  a 
faithful  and  efficient  trustee  of  our  college,  and  to 
whom  she  owes  a  large  debt  of  gratitude  for  his  wise 
and  useful  services  as  one  of  her  guardians,*  when  any 
one  was  spoken  of  in  his  presence  as  failing  of  success 
in  his  temporal  aifairs,  and  when  the  want  of  success 
was  accounted  for  by  calling  him  unfortunate,  was 
heard  more  than  once  to  say — "  Unfortunate  !  don't 
tell  me  ;  when  I  hear  of  such  an  event  I  set  it  down  to 
the  score  of  the  want  of  industry,  or  of  discretion,  or 
both.  No  industrious,  prudent  man  need  be  in  want 
or  in  difficulty  in  this  country."  This,  in  general,  I 
believe  to  be  a  true  verdict.  With  very  few  exceptions, 
(and  exceptions  there  doubtless  are,)  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that  the  opinion  of  that  enlightened  judge  may 
be  confidently  maintained.  It  will  be  found  true  in 
ninety-nine  cases  out  of  an  hundred. 

If  this  remark  applies  with  justice  to  the  ordinary 
details  of  commercial  or  mechanical  business,  it  is  no 
less  applicable  to  mental  efforts  and  attainments. 

*  The  late  Robert  Lenox,  Esquire,  of  New  York. 


ATTENTION — DILIGENCE.  169 

Here  you  might  just  as  well  expect  any  absurdity,  any 
impossibility  to  occur,  as  the  gaining  of  any  large 
amount  of  digested,  valuable  knowledge  without  much 
and  indefatigable  mental  labour.  When  I  have  heard, 
therefore,  as  I  sometimes  have,  of  students  (if  tbey 
deserve  the  name  of  students)  .who  dreamed  that  they 
were  men  of  genius,  and  who  imagined  that  genius, 
without  industry,  would  accomplish  everything — nay, 
who  felt  ashamed  of  appearing  studious,  and  who  en 
deavoured  to  conceal  the  little  mental  application  to 
which  they  did  submit,  by  conducting  it  in  a  stealtby 
manner  ; — when  I  have  heard  of  such  young  men,  I 
have  hardly  known  which  to  admire  most — their 
childish  ignorance  of  the  nature  of  true  knowledge,  or 
their  miserable  charlatanry  in  aping  a  character  to 
which  they  had  no  just  claim. 

If  you  wish  to  be  real  scholars,  and  to  make  any 
solid  attainments  in  any  of  the  branches  of  knowledge 
to  which  your  attention  is  directed,  calculate  on  con; 
stant  indefatigable  labour.  Abhor  the  thought  of 
skimming  over  the  surface  of  anything.  Whatever 
labour  it  may  cost,  go  to  the  bottom,  as  far  as  you  pos 
sibly  can,  of  every  subject.  Give  yourselves  no  rest 
until  you  comprehend  the  fundamental  principles,  the 
rationale  of  everything.  I  need  not  say  to  any  one 
who  thinks,  that  it  is  only  when  a  subject  is  thus  stu 
died  that  our  attainments  deserve  the  name  of  know 
ledge.  Then  only  can  it  be  said  to  have  a  firm  lodg 
ment  in  the  mind,  and  to  be  ready  for  practical  use 
when  subsequently  needed.  On  the  one  hand,  never 
give  way  to  the  foolish  notion,  that  you  can  never  ad 
vantageously  study  a  particular  branch  without  a  spe 
cial  genius  for  it.  Many  an  infatuated  youth,  for  ex 
ample,  has  tried  to  excuse  himself  for  not  mastering  or 
loving  his  mathematical  studies,  by  pleading  that  he 
has  no  genius  for  that  branch  of  science.  Never  allow 
yourselves  to  offer  or  to  entertain  such  a  plea.  A 
young  man  of  any  mind  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  such 
a  thought.  It  is,  in  forty-nine  cases  out  of  fifty,  the 
15 


170  ATTENTION — DILIGENCE. 

offspring  of  either  mental  imbecility,  or  shameful  lazi 
ness.  What  though  Dean  Swift  was  disgraced  in  the 
University  of  Dublin  by  his  ignorance  of  mathematics? 
Does  any  one  doubt  that,  if  morbid  caprice  and  indo 
lence  had  not  stood  in  the  way,  he  might  have  been  an 
eminent  mathematical  scholar  ?  And  is  not  every  re 
flecting  reader  of  his  life  persuaded  that,  if  he  had 
been  such  a  scholar,  he  would  have  been  a  far  greater, 
and,  perhaps,  a  more  practically  happy  man  ?  No  one 
who  has  the  spirit  of  a  man  ought  to  consider  any  de 
partment  of  knowledge  as  beyond  his  reach.  Let  him 
be  willing  to  labour  in  the  attainment  of  it  and  he 
will  overcome.  Let  him  constrain  himself,  however 
reluctantly,  to  engage  in  the  study ;  and,  in  a  little 
while,  that  which  in  the  outset  was  a  toil  will  become 
a  real  pleasure. 

On  the  other  hand,  imagine  not  that  any  department 
of  knowledge  can  be  successfully  explored  and  gained 
without  long-continued  and  patient  labour.  If,  indeed, 
you  wish  for  a  mere  smattering,  which  will  enable  you 
to  appear  decently  at  a  recitation,  .and  plausibly  to 
repeat  a  lesson  by  rote,  without  understanding  what 
you  say  ;  then,  truly,  you  may  get  along  without  much 
labour.  But  what  is  implied  in  filling  the  mind  with 
real  digested  knowledge  ?  Facts  must  be  stored  up ; 
principles  must  be  investigated  and  mastered  ;  rela 
tions,  proximate  and  remote,  must  be  explored  ;  and 
all  applied  to  the  numberless  and  ever  varying  cases 
which  the  works  of  nature  and  of  art  present.  Now, 
can  any  thinking  mind  imagine,  that  this  is  to  be  done 
without  much  mental  labour ;  without  continued,  sys 
tematic,  unwearied  toil  from  day  to  day  ?  Dr.  John 
son  never  uttered  a  juster  sentiment  than  when  he 
said — "  Every  one  who  proposes  to  grow  eminent  by- 
learning,  should  carry  in  his  mind,  at  once,  the  diffi 
culty  of  excellence,  and  the  force  of  industry  ;  and  re 
member  that  fame  is  not  conferred,  but  as  the  recom 
pense  of  labour  ;  and  that  labour,  vigorously  continued, 
has  not  often  failed  of  its  reward."* 

*  Rambler,  No.  25. 


ATTENTION — DILIGENCE.  171 

There  is,  I  apprehend,  no  defect  more  common 
among  students  than  impatience  of  protracted  labour 
in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  Many  seem  to  ima 
gine  that  large  and  profound  views  of  the  most  difficult 
subjects  are  to  be  gained  by  one  or  a  few  mighty 
efforts  ;  by  an  occasional  spasmodic  exertion,  if  I  may 
so  express  it.  Be  assured,  whatever  may  be  the  case 
with  a  rare  genius,  now  and  then,  it  is  commonly  not 
so.  The  old  French  proverb,  "  Pas  a  pas  on  va  bien 
loin,"  i.  e.  "  Step  by  step  one  goes  very  far,"  affords 
the  real  clew  to  the  proper  course.  A  mountain  is 
not  to  be  passed  by  a  single  leap  ;  nor  a  deep  and  rich 
mine  to  be  explored  by  a  single  stroke,  or  even  a  few 
strokes,  of  the  spade.  But  a  sufficient  number  of  slow, 
cautious,  patient  efforts  will  accomplish  the  enterprise. 
So  it  is  in  study.  Impatient  haste  is  the  bane  of  in 
tellectual  work.  A  little  thoroughly  done,  every  day, 
will  make  no  contemptible  figure  at  the  end  of  the 
year.  We  are  told  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  that,  when 
questioned  respecting  the  peculiar  powers  of  his  own 
mind,  he  said,  that  if  he  had  any  talent  which  distin 
guished  him  from  the  common  mass  of  thinking  men, 
it  was  the  power  of  slowly  and  patiently  examining  a 
subject ;  holding  it  up  before  his  mind  from  day  to 
day,  until  he  could  look  at  it  in  all  its  relations,  "and 
see  something  of  the  principles  by  which  it  was  gov 
erned.  His  estimate  was  probably  a  correct  one.  His 
most  remarkable,  and  certainly  his  most  valuable, 
talent  consisted,  not  in  daring,  towering  flights  of 
imagination,  or  in  strong  creative  powers,  but  in 
slow,  plodding  investigation  ;  in  looking  at  a  series  of 
facts,  from  day  to  day,  until  he  began  to  trace  their 
connection  ;  to  spell  out  their  consequences  ;  and  ulti 
mately  to  form  a  system  as  firm  as  it  was  beautiful. 
The  little  structures,  which  haste  and  parsimony  of 
labour  have  erected  from  time  to  time,  have  stood  their 
passing  day,  and  soon  crumbled  into  ruins.  But  the 
mighty  pyramids,  built  up  by  long,  patient,  and  un- 


172  ATTENTION — DILIGENCE. 

wearied  labour,  have  continued  firm,  in  all  their  un 
shaken  grandeur,  amidst  the  waste  of  ages. 

When  you  contemplate  the  splendid  success  of  some 
eminent  individuals,  now  or  lately  on  the  stage  of  pub 
lic  life,  you  are  ready  to  imagine  that  similar  success 
is  beyond  your  reach,  and  that  to  aim  at  it  would  be 
presumptuous.  This  is  a  great  mistake,  and  to  indulge 
it  is  very  unwise.  It  must  be  admitted,  indeed,  that  the 
success  of  all  cannot  be  alike.  All,  for  example,  cannot 
be  great  orators ;  excellence  in  this  art  depends  so 
much  on  physical  accomplishments ;  on  the  voice,  the 
eye,  the  nervous  temperament,  &c.,  that  we  can  by  no 
means  assure  every  one  that  a  high  degree  of  it  is 
within  his  reach.  Yet  even  here  great  excellence  may 
often  be  attained  by  those  whose  qualifications  appear, 
at  first  view,  wholly  unpromising.  The  history  of 
Demosthenes  is  a  most  striking  exemplification  of  the 
truth  of  this  remark.  Hundreds  who  are  now  poor 
speakers,  if  they  had  the  industry  and  the  resolution 
that  the  illustrious  Grecian  had — if  they  would  take 
the  unwearied  pains  that  he  did  to  expand  and  invigor 
ate  the  chest,  to  strengthen  and  discipline  the  voice, 
and  to  fill  their  minds  with  appropriate  sentiments  and 
happy  diction,  such  as  he  attained,  might  well  emulate 
even  his  eloquence.  It  is,  undoubtedly,  mere  indo 
lence,  or  ill  directed  eifort,  which  stands  in  the  way 
of  high  attainment,  in  this  rarest  of  all  human  accom 
plishments. 

But  the  avenues  to  real  greatness  are  almost  infinitely 
diversified;  and  if  one  be  shut,  another  is  open  to 
almost  every  one.  I  think,  my  dear  sons,  that  my 
estimate  of  your  talents  is  not  extravagant.  I  am 
willing,  for  argument's  sake,  to  place  it  as  low  as  any 
one  can  ask ;  and  I  will  still  say,  that  great  things  are 
within  your  reach.  Nay,  I  will  venture  confidently  to 
affirm,  that  every  one  who  has  had  mind  enough  and 
knowledge  enough  to  reach  any  class  in  college,  has  it 
in  his  power,  humanly  speaking,  to  attain  high  distinc 
tion  as  a  beloved,  honoured,  and  eminently  useful  man. 


ATTENTION — DILIGENCE.  173 

Some  of  the  greatest  benefactors  of  society  that  ever 
lived  were  not  men  of  genius  ;  but  they  were  sober  and 
industrious,  willing  to  labour  in  laying  up  knowledge ; 
and  they  did  thus  lay  it  up,  and  having  attained  it, 
they  had  the  honesty  and  the  benevolence  to  employ 
it  all  in  endeavouring  to  promote  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  their  fellow  men.  Who  can  say  that  this 
is  beyond  his  reach  ?  Look  round  on  your  classmates, 
and  ask,  which  of  them  is  too  low  on  the  score  of  talent 
to  be  thus  eminently  and  honourably  useful,  if  he  were 
only  willing  to  undergo  the  requisite  labour  for  the 
purpose?  While  laziness  and  vice  are  every  day 
clouding  the  prospects  and  degrading  the  reputation 
of  thousands,  making  them  cumberers  of  the  ground, 
instead  of  benefactors  of  their  species;  there  is  no 
doubt  that,  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  the  mere  qualities 
of  unwearied  industry  and  inflexible  honesty  have 
exalted  men  of  plain  talents  to  the  highest  ranks  of 
usefulness  and  honour.  Why,  0  why  are  so  few  willing, 
who  have  it  in  their  power,  to  make  the  experiment  ? 

But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  incessantly  occu 
pied,  and  yet  not  industrious.  This  is  the  case  with 
him  who  has  no  regular  system  of  employment,  who 
is  constantly  the  sport  of  new  occurrences ;  who  is 
continually  getting  in  arrears  with  his  business,  and 
always  in  a  hurry  to  overtake  it,  but  never  able.  Such 
persons  never  accomplish  much,  and  their  work,  such 
as  it  is,  is  hardly  ever  done  in  time.  I  once  knew  a 
most  worthy  man,  an  alumnus  of  our  college,  who  had 
an  active  mind,  and  who  was  seldom  idle.  But  he  had 
not  the  power  of  pursuing  any  one  object  long  at  a 
time.  He  was  incessantly  forming  new  projects  of 
literary  works,  but  never  carried  any  one  of  them 
into  execution.  I  seldom  met  him  without  finding  his 
mind  occupied  with  some  new  scheme,  and  having 
apparently  altogether  abandoned  that  which  absorbed 
his  attention  at  the  date  of  the  preceding  interview. 
The  consequence  was,  that,  although  conscientious, 
pious,  and  by  no  means  idle,  his  life  was  comparatively 


174  ATTENTION — DILIGENCE. 

wasted  in  promises  never  realized,  and  in  efforts  alto 
gether  abortive.  Real  industry  is  that  which  wisely 
and  maturely  forms  a  plan,  which  firmly  and  patiently 
pursues  it  from  day  to  day,  until  it  is  brought  to  a 
plenary  conclusion.  Perseverance  is  one  of  the  essential 
qualities  of  genuine  industry.  He  who  works  with 
zeal  and  diligence  for  a  few  days,  and  then  either 
breaks  off  altogether,  or  suffers  himself  to  be  interrupted 
by  every  frivolous  occurrence,  will  never  build  up  a 
very  firm  or  elevated  fame.  "  How  is  it  that  you 
accomplish  so  much?"  said  a  friend  to  the  great 
pensioner,  De  Witt,  of  Holland.  "  By  doing  one  thing 
at  a  time,"  replied  the  eminent  statesman. 

How  many  hours  per  diem  you  ought  to  study,  and 
in  what  precise  way  these  hours  ought  to  be  distributed 
in  the  twenty-four,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  prescribe. 
This  depends  so  much  on  the  state  of  health,  the  phy 
sical  temperament,  and  the  diversified  circumstances 
of  each  individual,  that  it  is  impossible  to  lay  down  a 
rule  which  shall  suit  all  equally  well.  Some,  who  study 
with  intense  application  whenever  they  are  thus  en 
gaged,  ought  not  to  employ  in  this  manner  more  than 
six  hours  each  day  ;  while  those  whose  application  of 
mind  in  such  cases  is  less  intense  and  absorbing,  may 
venture  on  ten  or  even  twelve  hours  in  every  twenty- 
four,  without  injury.  The  slow  and  phlegmatic  must, 
of  course,  employ  more  time  over  their  books  than  those 
whose  mental  operations  are  more  rapid  and  ardent. 
But  see  that,  as  far  as  possible,  no  moment  be  either 
lost  in  vacuity  or  wasted  on  frivolity. 

It  is  truly  wonderful  to  think  how  much  may  be 
accomplished  by  order  mingled  with  diligence  in  our 
pursuits.  He  who  has  a  time  and  a  place  for  every 
thing  that  he  has  to  do,  and  who  gains,  by  habit,  the 
power  of  summoning  his  powers  to  the  vigorous  per 
formance  at  the  proper  time,  of  the  prescribed  task, 
will  soon  learn  to  accomplish  more  in  a  day,  than  he 
who  is  frequently  struggling  with  ennui  and  with  indo 
lence  will  be  likely  to  accomplish  in  a  month. 


ATTENTION — DILIGENCE.  175 

And  if  you  wish  to  be  successfully  industrious,  make 
a  point  of  being  early  risers.  Lying  long  in  bed  in 
the  morning  is,  in  every  view,  a  pernicious  habit.  It 
seldom  fails  to  exert  a  morbid  influence  on  the  bodily 
health.  It  is  generally  connected  with  languid  feel 
ings,  and  with  want  of  decision  and  energy  in  every 
thing.  It  may  thus  be  said  to  cut  off  a  number  of  years 
from  the  ordinary  life  of  man.  But  the  importance  of 
this  habit  on  the  employments  of  a  student  is  incalcu 
lable.  He  who  has  much  to  do  ought  to  begin  early  in 
the  morning,  not  only  because  the  minds  of  most  people 
are  most  active  and  vigorous  immediately  after  the 
repose  of  the  night,  but  also  because  when  a  large  part 
of  our  daily  task  is  early  accomplished,  the  interrup 
tions  of  company,  as  the  day  advances,  are  less  annoy 
ing,  and  less  destructive  to  the  progress  of  our  work. 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  we  are  told  by  his  biographer,  was  in. 
the  habit,  at  one  period  of  his  life,  of  having  the  greater 
part  of  his  literary  task  for  each  day  nearly  completed 
at  an  early  hour  in  the  forenoon,  thus  leaving  a  num 
ber  of  hours  every  day  to  be  devoted  to  the  social  and 
other  employments,  which  his  eminence  and  his  multi 
plied  connections  with  his  friends  and  the  public  un 
avoidably  brought  upon  him.  This  too  was  the  great 
secret  of  the  immense  amount  of  labour  accomplished 
by  those  eminent  men  in  former  times,  whose  ponderous 
folios  we  now  look  upon  with  amazement,  and  can 
scarcely  find  time  to  read.  They  were  early  risers. 
Whenever  they  had  a  great  task  to  perform  (and  they 
always  had  some  task  on  hand),  they  were  steady  and 
incessant  in  their  labours.  They  lost  no  time  in  idle 
ness  or  trifles.  Imitate  their  example,  and  you  may 
accomplish  as  much  as  they  did.  The  laws  of  the  col 
lege  which  call  you  up  at  an  early  hour,  and  enjoin 
upon  you  an  early  retirement  to  rest,  may  now  seem 
to  you  a  hardship ;  but  if  you  live  a  few  years,  you 
will  regard  them  in  a  very  different  light. 


LETTER    XIV. 

ASSOCIATIONS— FRIENDSHIPS. 

"  Noscitur  a  sociis." — ANON. 

"  It  is  certain  that  either  wise  bearing,  or  ignorant  carriage, 
is  caught  as  men  take  diseases,  one  of  another  ;  therefore  take 
heed  of  your  company." — SHAKSPEARE. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — I  can  well  remember  the  time, 
when,  in  the  prospect  of  entering  a  college,  my  im 
pressions  of  the  character  of  such  an  institution  were 
of  the  most  interesting  kind.  I  expected  to  find  my 
self  united  to  a  society  of  young  gentlemen,  of  polished 
manners,  of  honourable  feelings  and  habits,  and  of 
ardent  and  generous  literary  emulation.  I  had  been 
experimentally  aware  that,  in  inferior  seminaries,  there 
are  often  found  lads  of  vulgar  character,  and  even  of 
profligate  principles,  and  grossly  revolting  habits.  But 
in  a  college  I  expected  to  find  the  very  elite  of  literary 
young  men ;  and  to  meet,  in  all  its  classes,  and  espe 
cially  in  its  more  advanced  ones,  circles  with  whom  it 
would  be  both  delightful  and  improving  to  maintain 
intercourse.  Judge,  then,  of  my  surprise,  when  I 
found  that,  even  in  a  college,  there  were  sometimes  to 
be  seen  young  men  of  mariners  as  vulgar  and  offensive, 
and  of  habits  and  principles  as  profligate,  as  elsewhere ; 
nay,  in  some  rare  instances,  capable  of  the  meanest  as 
well  as  the  most  criminal  practices ;  and,  therefore, 
that  even  here  it  was  necessary  to  be  select  in  associa 
tions,  and  especially  in  intimacies.  I  might  have  re 
flected,  indeed,  that  human  depravity  appears  in  every 
connection  and  walk  of  life ;  that  he  who  expects  to 
find  it  wholly  excluded,  even  from  the  church  of  God, 
(176) 


ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS.  177 

cherishes  a  vain  expectation ;  and  that,  in  circles  of 
college  students,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  be  always 
on  the  watch,  for  ascertaining  the  character  and  avoid 
ing  the  company  of  those  young  men  whose  touch  is 
pollution,  and  whose  intimacy  is  equally  disreputable 
and  perilous. 

It  is  a  maxim  of  inspired  wisdom  (1  Cor.  xv.  33) 
that  "  evil  communications  corrupt  good  manners." 
No  one,  however  wise  or  firm,  has  a  right  to  consider 
himself  as  above  the  reach  of  the  danger  against  which 
we  are  warned  by  this  maxim.  Even  the  inspired 
apostle  himself,  the  penman  of  the  maxim,  if  not  pro 
tected  by  a  special  guardianship,  would  have  been 
liable  to  suffer  by  the  mischievous  influence  against 
which  he  guards  us.  How  much  greater  the  danger 
when  the  fascination  of  intercourse  with  the  corrupt  is 
indulged  without  restraint,  and  without  the  least  ap 
prehension  of  mischief? 

There  are  few  situations,  in  which  a  base  and  profli 
gate  young  man  is  capable  of  doing  more  injury  to 
those  about  him,  than  in  a  college.  The  points  of  con 
tact  between  those  who  study  in  the  same  institution, 
and  especially  in  the  same  class,  are  so  numerous  and 
important,  that  it  is  difficult  wholly  to  avoid  contami 
nation.  The  counsel,  therefore,  which  I  have  to  give 
on  this  subject,  as  it  is  unspeakably  important,  so  you 
will  find  it  no  less  difficult  to  follow  in  your  daily  in 
tercourse. 

I  take  for  granted,  that  you  will  lay  it  down  as  a 
fundamental  principle  in  your  social  relations,  to  treat 
every  fellow  student  with  decorum,  and  even  with  ur 
banity  ;  that  you  will  study  to  be  gentlemen,  even 
amidst  the  freedom  of  college  intercourse.  This  I  have 
recommended,  in  another  letter,  with  all  the  zeal  of 
parental  solicitude.  Try  as  much  as  possible  to  have 
no  disagreement,  no  contest  with  any  one.  "  If  it  be 
possible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  you,  live  peaceably  with 
all."  For  this  purpose,  let  the  tones  of  your  voice, 
and  your  whole  air  and  manner,  be  free  from  that 


178  ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS. 

rough,  acrid,  insolent  character,  which  young  men  of 
ardent  minds,  and  buoyant  feelings,  are  so  apt  to  ex 
hibit  ;  and  which  are  the  beginning  of  so  many  dis 
tressing  quarrels  and  disgraceful  affrays.  It  has  been 
my  privilege,  in  the  course  of  a  long  life,  to  be  ac 
quainted  with  several  public  men,  of  eminent  talents, 
deeply  and  constantly  engaged  in  political  affairs  ;  and 
employed,  for  thirty  or  forty  years  together,  in  inter 
course  and  collision  with  all  sorts  of  men,  from  the 
most  excellent  to  the  most  corrupt  and  vile.  And  yet, 
though  not  religious  men,  I  have  never  heard  of  their 
giving  or  receiving  a  challenge  to  fight  a  duel ;  never 
known  them  to  be  involved  in  any  feud  or  broil  with 
any  one ;  never  seen  them  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
defending  themselves,  either  by  the  fist,  the  pen,  or 
the  tongue,  from  the  ferocious  attacks  of  ruffians. 
What  was  the  reason  of  this  ?  Not  because  they  had 
less  discernment  to  perceive  the  designs  of  opponents  ; 
or  less  sensibility  to  insult ;  or  less  regard  to  their  own 
dignity  and  honour  than  they  ought  to  have  had ;  but 
because  they  were  "  swift  to  hear,  slow  to  speak,  slow 
to  wrath ;"  because  they  had  the  faculty  of  "  ruling 
their  own  spirits ;"  because  they  saw  the  evil  of  dis 
sension  afar  off,  and  avoided  its  approaches ;  because 
their  language  and  tones  were  habitually  mild,  and 
adapted  to  disarm  and  conciliate  rather  than  to  pro 
voke  ;  in  short,  because  they  acted  upon  the  maxim  of 
the  wise  physician,  who  tells  us,  obsta  principiis ;  "an 
ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  a  pound  of  cure."  This 
was  the  grand  secret  of  such  men  going  through  life 
with  peaceful,  undisturbed  dignity,  beloved  and  confided 
in  by  the  community,  and  constraining  even  the  wicked 
to  speak  well  of  them. 

But  who  has  not  seen  many,  in  public  and  private 
life,  of  a  very  opposite  character?  Men  of  equal  talents, 
and,  in  many  respects,  of  equal  integrity  and  moral 
worth ;  but  so  morbidly  sensitive  to  all  opposition,  so 
liable  to  the  sallies  of  ungovernable  passion,  so  hasty 
and  unguarded  in  speech,  and  so  incapable  of  all  sober 


ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS.  179 

calculation  of  consequences,  that  they  were  constantly 
involved  in  broils,  and  sometimes  in  conflicts  of  dis 
graceful  and  brutal  violence.  Such  men  are  to  be 
avoided  almost  as  much  as  ferocious  beasts.  To  speak 
to  them  is  unsafe.  To  attempt  to  transact  business  with 
them  requires  all  the  vigilance  and  caution  necessary 
in  handling  or  approaching  an  exploding  substance. 

Let  me  exhort  you,  then,  my  dear  sons,  as  soon  as 
possible  to  learn  the  character  of  all  your  fellow  stu 
dents,  and  especially  of  those  with  whom  you  are  asso 
ciated  in  the  same  class.  If  you  perceive  any  to  be 
particularly  forward,  or  likely  on  account  of  any  popu 
lar  qualities,  to  take  the  lead,  scrutinize  them  with 
peculiar  care.  The  moment  you  perceive  any  one  to 
be  profane,  rude,  vulgar,  irritable,  quarrelsome,  or  for 
ward  in  plotting  or  executing  mischief,  however  great 
his  talents,  mark  him ;  have  as  little  to  do  with  him  as 
possible ;  neither  say  nor  do  anything  to  provoke  his 
resentment ;  but  avoid  him,  speak  not  to  him,  or  of  him 
more  than  you  can  help.  If  he  discovers  a  disposi 
tion  to  be  intimate  with  you,  do  not  repel  him  offen 
sively  ;  but  let  him  see,  by  negative  rather  than  positive 
indications,  that  you  prefer  the  company  of  other  asso 
ciates.  If  you  go  to  the  room  of  a  corrupt  and  disor 
derly  fellow  student ;  if  you  are  found  in  his  company, 
or  partaking  with  him  in  any  amusement,  you  may  be 
unexpectedly  implicated  in  some  of  his  freaks  or  fol 
lies,  in  a  manner  as  unmerited  as  painful.  I  have 
known  one  event  of  this  kind  to  involve  an  innocent 
and  worthy  student  in  serious  and  lasting  difficulty. 
Indeed  I  would  carry  my  advice  to  avoid  all  intercourse 
with  the  corrupt  and  disorderly,  so  far  as  to  say,  with 
earnestness,  never  allow  yourselves  to  mix  with  the 
crowd  which  seldom  fails  to  rush  together,  when  any 
affray,  great  or  small,  occurs,  either  in  the  campus  or 
in  the  street.  However  great  the  assemblage,  and 
however  strong  the  impulse  of  curiosity,  refrain,  if  you 
can  summon  so  much  resolution,  from  approaching  the 
scene.  If  you  are  present,  with  the  most  innocent 


180  ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS. 

intentions  in  the  world,  and  with  the  most  entire  origi 
nal  freedom  possible  from  the  leading  actors  in  the 
scene,  some  unexpected  nervous  excitement  on  your 
part,  some  remark  of  a  reckless  and  foolish  bystander, 
some  blow  intended  for  another  lighting  on  yourselves, 
may  render  the  gratification  of  a  momentary  curiosity 
a  source  of  serious  and  lasting  calamity.  Often,  very 
often  have  I  had  reason  to  be  thankful,  that  some  pro 
vidential  occurrence,  rather  than  my  own  wisdom, 
prevented  my  making  one  of  a  crowd  in  which,  from 
apparently  small  beginnings,  passions  were  unexpect 
edly  inflamed,  violence  extended,  and  a  number  of  indi 
viduals  suddenly  implicated,  and  perhaps  fatally  injured, 
who  had  no  connection  whatever  with  the  original  con 
flict.  The  truth  is,  such  scenes  ought  to  be  just  as 
carefully  avoided  as  the  track  of  a  fearful  tornado, 
when  sweeping  past  our  place  of  abode. 

But,  my  dear  sons,  while  you  avoid,  with  the  utmost 
vigilance,  the  company  of  such  young  men  as  I  have 
described,  and  all  contact  with  such  scenes  of  violence 
as  those  to  which  I  have  referred,  remember  that 
social  intercourse  with  your  fellow  students,  when 
wisely  conducted,  is  of  great  value,  and  may  be  made 
the  source  of  essential  benefits.  I  say,  when  wisely 
conducted ;  for  there  is  here  great  need  of  judgment 
and  caution.  Be  not  in  haste  to  form  intimacies. 
Enlightened  and  safe  friendship  is  a  plant  of  slow 
growth.  No  wise  young  man  will  give  his  heart  and 
his  confidence  to  one  with  whom  he  is  only  slightly 
acquainted.  He  will  not  only  scrutinize  his  character 
with  care  himself,  but  he  will  also  carefully  mark  how 
the  candidate  for  his  favour  is  regarded  and  treated 
by  the  best  judges,  who  have  been  longer  and  more 
intimately  acquainted  with  him.  Try,  as  far  as  possi 
ble,  to  select,  as  the  objects  of  your  confidence,  some 
of  the  best  talents  and  the  best  scholarship  among 
your  fellow  students.  From  such,  provided  their 
moral  and  social  qualities  do  not  render  them  danger 
ous,  you  may  expect  to  derive  most  pleasure,  most 


ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS.  181 

intellectual  excitement,  most  solid  instruction.  Guard 
against  the  error  of  having  too  many  intimates.  It 
frequently  happens  that  sanguine,  raw  young  men, 
find  confidents  in  every  place  of  their  residence,  whe 
ther  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time.  Such  confidential 
relations  ought  always  to  be  very  few,  and  very  cau 
tiously  formed.  He  who  makes  them  many  will  soon 
find  himself  betrayed  and  embarrassed.  Not  one 
friend  in  a  thousand  is  fit  to  be  entrusted  with  the 
private  concerns  of  others,  and  especially  with  those 
personal  secrets  which  it  is  the  interest  of  every  one 
to  conceal  from  the  public.  Even  where  there  is  a 
strict  sense  of  honour,  essential  weakness  of  character 
renders  many  a  worthy  individual  an  utterly  unsafe 
depositary  of  confidential  communications.  I  have 
met  with  but  two  or  three  friends  in  a  long  life  whom 
I  found  it  prudent  thus  to  trust.  You  will  be  very 
fortunate  if  you  meet  with  more  than  one  in  all  your 
college. 

But  further,  be  not  so  intimate  with  any,  as  either 
to  waste  in  social  intercourse  that  time  of  your  own 
which  ought  to  be  spent  in  study ;  or  to  encroach  on 
their  time  in  such  a  manner  as  to  interrupt  them  in 
the  performance  of  their  duty.  I  have  known  some 
students  so  inconsiderate  as  to  spend  a  portion  of 
almost  every  day  in  going  from  room  to  room,  visiting 
their  fellow  students.  Such  young  men  lessen  their 
own  dignity ;  make  their  visits  cheap ;  waste  their 
own  time  ;  and  invade  the  time,  the  studies,  and,  of 
course,  the  comfort  of  others.  Lord  Bacon  was  accus 
tomed,  with  emphasis,  to  say — "  Temporis  fures 
amid."  Cotton  Mather,  and,  after  him,  Dr.  Watts, 
caused  to  be  inscribed,  in  large  letters,  over  their  study 
doors,  these  words — "  BE  SHORT."  That  student  who 
spends  much  time  in  his  social  visits,  gives  ample  evi 
dence  that  he  is  neglecting  his  studies,  and  is  likely  to 
make  a  poor  scholar.  But  this  is  not  all :  he  will 
very  soon  become  an  unwelcome  visitant  to  all,  except 
ing  those  who  are  as  indolent  and  reckless  as  himself. 
16 


182  ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS. 

In  all  your  intercourse  with  your  fellow  students, 
adhere  to  the  strictest  principles  of  delicacy  and  hon 
our.  Never  betray,  or  take  the  advantage  of  any 
confidence  reposed  in  you.  Never  employ  any  indi 
rect  arts,  or  insidious  means,  to  raise  yourselves,  or  to 
depress  others.  Never  allow  yourselves  to  use  any 
information  or  opportunity  which  your  intimacy  may 
give,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  to  the  injury  of  one 
whom  you  call  your  friend.  In  short,  I  would  say, 
never  permit  yourselves  to  make  any  use  of  the  most 
unguarded  disclosure,  or  of  the  most  confidential  con 
versation,  which  you  would  not  be  perfectly  willing 
that  all  the  world  should  know,  and  that  all  your 
friends  should  apply  to  yourselves.  Begin  now,  my 
dear  sons,  when  your  social  character  is  forming,  to 
despise  and  hate  everything  like  trick,  deceit,  or  un 
derhand  management,  in  your  intercourse  with  others  ; 
everything  that  shuns  the  light,  or  which,  if  known, 
would  be  considered  as  inconsistent  with  perfect  fair 
ness  and  candour.  No  one  can  tell  how  much  of  that 
which  is  now  concealed,  and  which  he  supposed  could 
never  be  known,  may  one  day  be  unexpectedly  dragged 
to  light.  Let  the  most  entire  sincerity,  openness,  and 
manly  integrity  shine  in  every  part  of  your  conversa 
tion  and  deportment.  I  should  be  greatly  mortified 
if  any  of  your  companions  should  be  able  to  say,  that 
while  professing  to  be  his  friend,  you  had  taken  the 
advantage  of  your  intimacy,  in  the  least  tittle,  to  wound 
his  reputation,  or  injure  his  feelings. 

Nay,  I  would  go  one  step  further,  and  say,  not  only 
adhere  to  the  strictest  integrity  and  honour  in  all  your 
intercourse  with  those  whom  you  call  your  friends,  and 
who  you  are  willing  should  be  so  regarded  ;  but  also 
toward  your  opponents,  and  even  your  bitterest  ene 
mies.  If  the  worst  enemy  I  have  in  the  world  should, 
in  an  unguarded  moment,  utter  in  my  hearing  a  speech 
which  he  did  not  deliberately  intend  to  make,  or  dis 
close  a  fact  which  he  earnestly  wished  to  conceal,  or 
drop  from  his  pocket  a  private  paper,  which  he  was 


ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS.  183 

solicitous  to  keep  from  others — I  should,  in  most  cases, 
consider  myself  as  bound  in  honour  not  to  divulge 
them.  Hence  the  unanimity  with  which  all  honour 
able  people  condemn  the  repeating  of  private  conver 
sation  ;  and  hence  the  severity  with  which  all  well 
constituted  and  delicate  minds  reprobate  the  conduct 
of  the  eavesdropper,  who  gains  a  knowledge  of  domes 
tic  secrets,  or  party  plans,  by  mean,  secret  listening. 
If  I  can  approach  my  enemy,  or  meet  my  opponent  in 
open  warfare,  every  honourable  mind  will  justify  me 
in  doing  so :  but  I  would  not  for  the  world  consent  to 
be,  or  to  employ,  a  spy,  whom  all  civilized  nations 
concur  in  sending  to  the  gallows. 

It  is  a  maxim  of  policy  with  some  students  to  seek 
and  cultivate  intimacies  with  such  of  their  college 
companions  as  belong  to  the  most  wealthy  and  con 
spicuous  families ;  accordingly,  when  a  son  of  a  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  or  of  a  distinguished  mem 
ber  of  Congress,  or  of  a  citizen  of  great  wealth  enters 
college,  it  is  considered  as  good  policy  by  many  calcu 
lating  youth  early  to  make  their  acquaintance,  and  to 
become,  as  far  as  possible,  intimate  with  them.  There 
is  much  less  wisdom  in  this  than  is  commonly  supposed. 
The  sons  of  such  distinguished  parents  are  seldom 
sober-minded  and  virtuous.  They  have  been  commonly 
too  much  accustomed  to  gaiety,  and  company,  and 
dissipation,  and  luxurious  living,  to  be  either  diligent 
students  or  good  scholars.  Their  habits,  too,  are  apt 
to  be  lax  and  expensive ;  and  they  too  frequently  be 
tray  into  unlawful  liberties  and  unexpected  and  incon 
venient  expenses,  those  who  court  their  company  ;  and, 
in  the  end,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  they  cost  much 
more  than  they  profit  us.  The  truth  is,  instead  of 
seeking,  anterior  to  inquiry  and  experience,  peculiar 
intimacy  with  such  young  men,  I  should  be  more  dis 
trustful  of  such  than  of  others  ;  more  afraid  of  their 
proffered  friendship ;  more  apprehensive  of  danger 
from  being  found  much  in  their  company  ;  more  careful 
to  scrutinize  the  real  stamp  and  bearing  of  their  char- 


184  ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENSDHIPS. 

acter,  than  if,  with  equally  plausible  appearances,  they 
had  more  moderate  claims,  and  had  been  brought  up 
with  more  humble  retiring  simplicity.  The  sons  of 
pious  parents,  and  sometimes  even  of  eminent  ministers 
of  the  gospel,  have,  in  some  instances,  turned  out  to 
be  profligate,  and  proved  pestiferous  companions :  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  young  men  trained  in  pious  families, 
in  regular  habits,  in  plain  and  moderate  expenditures, 
and  with  a  reliance,  under  God,  on  their  own  efforts, 
for  success  in  life,  are,  in  general,  the  most  safe  and 
profitable  associates,  and,  of  course,  most  worthy  of 
being  selected  as  friends. 

In  short,  I  hope  you  will  act  in  college  as  the  wise 
and  the  virtuous  act  in  the  ordinary  intercourses  of 
society.  Be  on  amicable  and  neighbourly  terms  with 
all,  excepting  the  profligate  and  vile.  With  them  have 
no  intercourse  that  can  possibly  be  avoided.  Never 
visit  them.  Never  be  seen  in  their  rooms  or  their 
company,  however  great  their  talents,  or  however  emi 
nent  their  scholarship.  Let  your  selectest  intimacies 
be  with  youth  of  the  highest  character  for  talents  and 
attainments,  provided  their  moral  character  be  un 
blemished  and  pure,  and  especially,  if  they  give  evi 
dence  of  sincere  piety.  Where  there  is  true  religion, 
there  is  something  that  is  worthy  of  confidence,  and 
that  may  always  be  made  profitable  to  you,  even  though 
accompanied  with  only  moderate  intellectual  powers, 
and  medium  scholarship. 

I  shall  close  this  letter  by  putting  you  on  your  guard 
against  a  particular  weakness  which  I  have  often 
observed  to  have  a  place,  and  to  exert  no  small  influence, 
among  associates  in  college.  I  mean  the  cowardice 
and  servility  of  those  who  feel  as  if  they  were  bound 
to  imitate  their  companions  in  everything;  and  as  if 
all  departure  from  this  imitation  were  to  be  considered 
as  so  many  marks  of  painful  inferiority.  Often — 
very  often — have  I  known  youthful  members  of  college 
anxious  to  be  like  their  classmates,  and  other  associates, 
in  everything ;  following  the  same  fashions ;  going  to 


ASSOCIATIONS — FRIENDSHIPS.  185 

the  same  places  of  resort ;  manifesting  the  same  supe 
riority  to  parental  supervision  and  restraint  ;  and 
mortified  if  they  could  not  take  the  same  liberties,  and 
display  the  same  independence  in  all  their  movements. 
This  is  so  far  from  being  a  manly,  independent  spirit, 
that  it  is  directly  the  reverse.  It  argues  a  weak 
dependence  on  others  for  giving  law  to  our  conduct. 
Is  it  manly  or  wise  to  follow  the  shadows  of  others, 
perhaps  no  more  entitled  to  be  a  model  than  yourselves  ? 
If  you  do  not  follow  their  example,  is  it  not  quite  as 
true  that  they  do  not  follow  yours  ?  Besides,  if  you 
must  be  conformed,  to  the  wishes  of  others,  is  it  not 
much  better  that  you  should  consult  the  judgment,  and 
be  regulated  by  the  wishes  of  those  who  know  you 
best,  who  love  you  most,  who  take  a  deeper  interest  in 
your  welfare,  and  understand  what  will  promote  that 
welfare  better  than  any  others  ;  than  that  you  should 
follow  in  the  wake  of  inexperienced,  thoughtless  com 
panions,  who  are  miserable  judges  of  what  is  best  either 
for  you  or  themselves  ;  who  actually  care  nothing  about 
your  real  welfare  ;  and  only  wish  to  make  you  subser 
vient  to  their  present  pleasure  ?  I  have  been  a  thousand 
times  both  surprised  and  disgusted  to-  find  amiable  and 
ingenuous  youth,  so  cowardly  and  servile  in  their 
constant  reference  to  the  habits  of  their  fellow  students, 
that  they  were  ready  to  break  through  the  wishes,  and 
even  the  authority  of  parents  and  guardians,  for  the 
sake  of  indulging  this  imitative  spirit.  Those  who  feel 
and  act  thus,  may  imagine  that  they  manifest  manliness 
and  independence  of  character ;  but  they  were  never 
more  deceived.  In  the  whole  business  they  are  dis 
playing  a  childish  reliance  on  the  authority  of  children 
like  themselves,  as  weak  as  it  is  mischievous. 


LETTER    XV. 


LITERARY  SOCIETIES  IN  COLLEGE. 

ConcordiS,  res  parvae  erescunt,  discordia  maximae  dilabuntur. 

SALLUST. 

Comes  jucundus  in  vi&  pro  vehiculo  est. — PUBL.  SYR. 

MY  DEAK  SONS — The  "American  Whig"  and  " Clio- 
sophic"  societies  have  long  existed  in  the  College  of 
New  Jersey,  and  have  exerted  no  small  influence  on 
the  improvement  and  character  of  its  students.  I  will 
not  trouble  you  now  with  any  details  of  the  history  of 
those  societies.  You  know  that  the  great  professed 
purpose  of  their  institution  was  that  they  might  pro 
mote  some  important  objects,  which  the  ordinary  exer 
cises  of  the  college  were  not  so  well  adapted  to  secure, 
particularly  a  spirit  of  fraternal  friendship  among  the 
students,  and  also  a  laudable  emulation  in  literature, 
science,  manners,  and  morals.  Such  is  the  theory  of 
these  institutions  ;  and  if  their  actual  administration 
had  always  been  in  faithful  conformity  with  this  theory, 
they  would,  no  doubt,  have  produced  fruits  of  far 
greater  value  than  have  been  ever  realized.  But  large 
allowance  must  always  be  made  for  the  management 
of  every  association  conducted  by  ardent  young  men, 
of  little  experience,  of  sanguine  feelings,  and  of  much 
self-confidence. 

Still  these  societies  are  truly  valuable,  and  worthy 
of  encouragement ;  and  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  know 
that  you  are  connected  with  one  of  them.  My  great 
design  in  referring  to  the  subject,  is  to  take  an  oppor 
tunity  of  urging  upon  you  to  prize  this  connection 

(186) 


LITERARY   SOCIETIES   IN  COLLEGE.  187 

highly,  and  to  study,  by  all  the  means  in  your  power, 
to  make  it  profitable  to  yourselves  and  all  your  fellow 
members. 

You  are  aware  of  the  evils  which  are  apt  to  arise  and 
to  interfere  both  with  the  comfort  and  the  usefulness 
of  such  associations  among  young  men  in  college.  The 
same  evils  which  disturb  all  other  society  are  apt,  of 
course,  to  operate  here.  Beside  these,  there  are 
many  arising  from  the  inexperience,  the  ardour,  the 
rashness,  the  vanity,  the  pride,  and  the  other  passions 
of  youth.  It  has  been  sometimes  observed,  that  there 
are  no  disciplinarians  more  rigorous,  and  even  intole 
rant  than  young  men*.  But  their  rigour  is  apt  to  be 
spasmodic  and  unseasonable,  and  to  be  followed  by 
paroxysms  of  indulgence,  levity,  irritation,  disorder, 
and  even  violence  far  more  revolting  than  their  spasms 
of  rigour.  If  the  same  members  could  continue  to  act 
for  twenty  or  thirty  years  together,  these  evils  would 
be  gradually,  but  certainly  diminished.  This,  how 
ever,  cannot  be  the  case.  A  constant  succession  of 
the  raw,  the  ardent,  and  the  inexperienced,  are 
destined  to  be  the  counsellors  and  the  guides  in  every 
measure. 

The  simple  statement  of  these  evils  will  itself  go  far 
toward  furnishing  an  index  both  to  their  prevention 
and  their  correction.  You  ought  to  be  continually 
learning  in  the  hall  of  your  society  not  only  those 
lessons  which  will  tend  to  your  improvement  in  mental 
culture,  and  in  literary  acquirement  and  taste ;  but 
also  in  whatever  is  adapted  to  refine  your  moral  and 
social  feelings,  and  polish  your  manners.  Here  you 
ought  continually  to  cherish  that  generous,  fraternal 
emulation  which  seeks  to  excel,  and,  instead  of  sicken 
ing  with  envy  at  the  talents  and  success  of  others,  is 
stimulated  by  laudable  efforts  to  overtake  and  surpass 
them.  Here  you  ought  to  be  constantly  excited  to 
higher  and  higher  acquisitions  in  every  intellectual  ac 
complishment.  Here  it  ought  to  be  your  aim,  amidst 
all  the  diversities  of  temper,  all  the  jarrings  of  youthful 

/*•   Of  XHS*^^ 


188  LITERARY   SOCIETIES   IN   COLLEGE. 

passion  and  all  the  ebullitions  of  ignorance,  inexpe 
rience  and  rashness,  to  cherish  with  studious  care  the 
virtues  of  self-command,  prudence,  gentleness,  and 
habitual  respectfulness.  The  hall  of  your  society  may 
be  regarded  as  a  foretaste  of  what  you  are  to  meet 
with,  on  a  greater  scale,  on  the  theatre  of  the  world. 
It  has  been  your  fortune  to  be  personally  acquainted 
with  some,  who,  amidst  all  the  folly,  the  turbulence, 
the  vulgarity,  and  the  ill-manners  of  many  with  whom 
they  came  in  contact,  were  never  involved  in  any  em 
barrassing  quarrel,  but  steered  through  life  with  a  re 
markable  exemption  from  feuds  and  animosities.  And 
you  have  known  others  so  morbidly  touchy  and  in 
flammable  themselves,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  re 
gardless  of  the  feelings  of  others,  as  to  be  perpetually 
involved  in  broils  and  conflicts  wherever  they  went. 
Tempers  and  scenes  of  both  these  classes  are  not  un 
known  even  in  the  halls  of  literary  societies.  And  I 
would  earnestly  exhort  you  to  let  your  hall,  whenever 
it  may  be  opened,  be  a  place  of  moral  as  well  as  intel 
lectual  discipline.  To  this  end,  the  following  counsels, 
I  will  venture  confidently  to  say,  are  worthy  of  your 
serious  consideration. 

1.  Faithfully  resist  the  election  of  any  member  into 
your  society  who  is  known  to  be  remarkable  for  his  bad 
scholarship,  his  vulgar  or  immoral  habits,  or  his  inso 
lent,  perverse  temper.  Let  no  temptation  of  adding  to 
your  numbers  induce  you  to  vote  for  admitting  any 
student  of  this  character.  Such  persons,  when  unfor 
tunately  introduced,  seldom  fail  to  give  more  trouble 
than  they  are  worth.  They  weaken  and  degrade, 
rather  than  strengthen  any  society  to  which  they  be 
long;  and  sometimes  have  been  known,  by  their  vulgar, 
profligate  insolence,  to  inflict  lasting  disgrace,  and  all 
but  ruin  on  the  body  with  which  they  were  connected. 
Let  nothing  deter  you  from  opposing  their  introduction. 
Do  it  mildly ;  do  it  in  guarded  language ;  and  if  no 
other  method  be  likely  to  succeed,  propose  respectfully 
a  committee  of  inquiry,  and  inform  that  committee 


LITERARY  SOCIETIES  IN  COLLEGE.  189 

confidentially  of  the  reasons  of  your  opposition.  If 
this  were  faithfully  done,  no  one  can  estimate  the  happy 
influence  which  might  thereby  be  exerted  on  the  cha 
racter  of  a  band  of  students. 

2.  Be  perfectly  punctual  in  your  attendance  on  all 
the  meetings  of  the  society  to  which  you  belong,  and 
perform  with  diligence  and  fidelity  every  task  which  its 
rules  may  impose  upon  you.     Never  either  neglect  or 
slight  any  exercise  which  it  becomes  your  duty  to  per 
form.     That  which  is  worth  doing  at  all  is  worth  doing 
well.     To  refuse  the  time  and  labour  necessary  to  its 
execution  in  the  best  manner,  is  doing  injustice  to  your 
fellow  members,  as  well  as  cheating  yourselves.     If  the 
principles  of  the  society  are  not  faithfully  carried  into 
execution,  it  might  as  well,  nay  better,  be  disbanded. 

3.  Make  a  point  of  addressing  all  your  fellow  mem 
bers  with  politeness  and  respect.     Let  your  hall,  so  far 
as  you  are   concerned,  be  a  school  of  the    strictest 
urbanity  and  respectfulness.     Let  no  opposite  tone  or 
conduct  on  the  part  of  others  tempt  you  for  a  moment 
to  deviate  from  this  course.     "A  soft  answer  turneth 
away  wrath."     Nothing  tends  more  directly  to  disarm 
passion  or  insolence  than  either  a  dignified  silence  in 
some  cases,  and  in  others  a  rigid  observance  of  the  laws 
of  urbanity  and   respectfulness.     I  know  it   is  your 
desire  to  avoid  all  those  feuds,  broils,  and  scenes  of 
violence  which  are  so  apt  to  grow  out  of  youthful  ani 
mosities,  and   which   are  too   frequently  followed  by 
results  as  criminal  as  they  are  silly  and  contemptible. 
It  is  impossible  to  measure  the  happy  influence  which 
one  member  of  such  a  society,  whose  example  is  per 
fectly  correct  and  gentlemanly,  may  impart  to  all  his 
fellow  members. 

4.  Endeavour,  by  all  the  means  in  your  power,  to 
render  the  society  to  which  you  belong,  a  source  of  dis 
cipline  in  morals,  as  well  as  in  literary  and  scientific 
improvement.     Remember  that  you  are  bound  by  the 
principles  of  your  institution   to  frown  upon  all  dis 
order  and  immorality,  as  well  as  upon  bad  scholarship, 


190  LITERARY   SOCIETIES   IN   COLLEGE. 

and  intellectual  negligence.  Of  course,  no  student, 
known  to  be  habitually  immoral,  ought  to  be  admitted 
into  your  society  ;  and  whenever  it  becomes  apparent, 
that  any  one  who  has  been  admitted  is  immoral,  he  ought 
immediately  to  be  suspended,  and  if  he  persists  in  his 
delinquency,  he  ought  to  be  forthwith  expelled.  A  few 
such  examples  would  do  a  literary  society  essential 
good ;  would  do  more  to  elevate  its  character,  and  in 
the  end,  to  add  to  its  numbers,  than  could  well  be  told. 
Let  every  member  recollect,  that  a  large  portion  of  the 
trust  for  keeping  the  society,  to  which  he  belongs,  in 
this  state  of  moral  health,  is  committed  to  him ;  and 
that  he  can  do  more  by  bearing  a  faithful  testimony, 
from  time  to  time,  in  favour  of  moral  correctness,  than 
he  would  easily  believe.  By  throwing  out  proper  sen 
timents  on  this  subject  upon  all  suitable  occasions,  and 
by  voting  for  strict  discipline  in  all  cases  of  delinquency, 
each  one  may  become  a  conservator  of  the  moral  char 
acter,  and  consequently,  of  the  true  honour  of  the  so 
ciety,  to  an  extent  which  invests  every  member  with  a 
mighty  power  of  doing  good. 

5.  You  are  aware  that  most  of  the  literary  societies 
in  colleges  avail  themselves  of  the  principle  of  secrecy, 
to  increase  curiosity  and  interest  in  their  favour. 
Whether  this  feature  in  their  constitutions  is  dictated 
by  wisdom,  and  confers  any  real  advantage,  is  a  ques 
tion  which  I  do  not  think  proper  now  to  discuss.  No  one, 
however,  of  correct  and  honourable  feelings  can  doubt 
for  a  moment  that,  as  long  as  this  principle  is  actually 
incorporated  in  the  plan  of  any  society  to  which  he  be 
longs,  he  is  bound  strictly  and  delicately  to  adhere  to 
it,  and  to  avoid  everything  which  borders  on  an  infringe 
ment  of  it.  Nay,  more ;  if  any  of  the  secrets  of  a 
rival  society  should  by  any  means  become  known  to 
you,  my  judgment  is,  that  true  delicacy  of  sentiment 
ought  to  prevent  you  from  divulging  them  to  a  human 
being.  If  a  son  of  mine,  after  accidentally  becoming 
possessed  of  such  secrets,  were  to  disclose  them,  I 
should  consider  him  as  dishonoured. 


LITERARY   SOCIETIES   IN  COLLEGE.  191 

6.  Guard  with  sacred  care  against  a  spirit  of  carp 
ing  and  animosity  toward  a  rival  society.     This   is  a 
very  mischievous  evil.      The  beginning   of  it  is  like 
the   letting   out  of  water.      It    generates  strife.     It 
occupies  time  which  ought  to   be  reserved  for  higher 
and  better  objects.     And  in  some  cases  it  has  grown  to 
a  mass  of  mischief  which  no  one  anticipated,  and  over 
which  all  mourned.     Evils  of  this  kind,  every  one  sees 
afterwards,  might  easily   have  been   prevented  by  a 
small  measure  of  coolness  and  prudence  in  the  begin 
ning.     I  firmly  believe  that  the  most  of  those  disagree 
ments  which  have  interfered  with  amicable  and  pleasant 
co-operation   in   public   festive  services  between  rival 
societies,  have  arisen  either  from  the  littleness  of  punc 
tilio,  or  from  the  equally  censurable  littleness  of  false 
honour,  and  weak  jealousy,  which  ought  to  have  no 
place  in  elevated  minds. 

7.  But  especially  be  careful  in  no  case  to  allow  your 
society  to  set  itself  against  the  authority  of  the  college. 
This   is  like  a   civil   war  in  the   state,  always  to  be 
avoided   at   almost   any   sacrifice.      Even    when   the 
authority  of  the  college  is  manifestly  acting  under   an 
entire  mistake  in  regard  to  facts,  there  may  be,  without 
impropriety,  calm  statements,  and  even  respectful  re 
monstrance  ;    but  in  no  case  an  attempt   to  exercise 
counter  authority.     Any  society  in  a  literary  institution 
which  should  attempt  this,  in  any  form,  ought  instantly 
to  be  dissolved.     A  faculty  would  be  wanting  to  itself, 
and  unfaithful  to  the  institution  committed  to  its  care, 
which  should  suffer  such  a  rebellious  society  to  exist  for 
a  single  hour. 

8.  I  will  only  add,  let  it  be  your  constant  study  to 
render  the  society  to  which  you  belong  as  respectable, 
as  useful,  and  as   happy  as  possible.     It  has  been  de 
lightful  to  observe  how  some  individuals  have  endeared 
themselves  to  the   society  to  which  they  belonged,  by 
an  amiable  gentlemanly  deportment ;  by  a  faithful  dis 
charge  of  all  the  duties  which  they  owed  to  it ;  by  em 
bracing  every  opportunity  of  promoting  its  best  interests, 


192  LITERARY   SOCIETIES  IN   COLLEGE. 

and  adding  to  its  true  honour.  In  the  records  of  every 
such  society  you  always  find  a  few  names  handed  down  as 
benefactors  from  one  generation  of  students  to  another. 
Let  it  be  your  study  thus  to  transmit  your  own  names 
with  honour  to  coming  timea. 


LETTER    XV. 


DRESS. 

"Of  outward  form 

Elaborate,  of  inward  less  exact." — MILTON. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — -There  are  two  extremes  in  regard 
to  dress  into  which  I  have  observed  that  college  students 
are  apt  to  fall.  The  one  is  a  total  negligence  of  it, 
leading  to  a  disgusting  slovenliness  ;  the  other  a  de 
gree  of  scrupulous  attention  to  it,  which  indicates  fop 
pery  and  dandyism.  It  is  my  earnest  desire  that  none 
of  my  sons  may  fall  into  either  of  these  extremes. 
And  let  it  be  remembered  that  they  are  both  peculiarly 
apt  to  be  adopted  by  students  who  board  and  lodge 
together  in  the  same  public  edifice.  There  is  some 
thing  in  the  gregarious  principle,  which  while  it  is  pro 
ductive  of  much  good,  is  by  no  means  unattended  with 
serious  evil. 

-  Some  good  scholars,  and  young  men  otherwise  en 
tirely  exemplary,  have  been  notoriously  slovenly  in 
their  dress.  But  it  was  a  real  blemish  in  their  char 
acter,  and  was  connected  with  no  little  disadvantage. 
It  is  no  disgrace  to  a  student  to  be  poor  ;  to  be  obliged 
to  wear  a  threadbare,  and  even  a  patched  garment. 
It  is  rather  to  his  honour,  and  ought  to  be  so  felt  by 
him,  to  be  strictly  economical ;  to  dress  according  to 
his  circumstances  ;  and  never  to  purchase  new  clothes 
until  he  is  able  honestly  to  pay  for  them.  He  who 
does  otherwise  is  really  the  mean  and  dishonest  man. 
But  let  not  his  economical  dress  be  slouching  or  filthy. 
Let  him  not  walk  about  among  his  fellows,  for  hours 
after  rising,  with  his  shoes  down  at  the  heel,  with  his 

17  (193) 


194  DRESS. 

stockings  hanging  loose  about  his  legs  ;  or  any  part  of 
his  clothing  visibly  begrimed  with  dirt.  Cleanliness 
and  neatness  are  among  the  moral  virtues,  and  can 
never  be  neglected  by  any  one  with  impunity.  We 
have  no  more  right  to  render  our  persons  disgusting  to 
those  who  approach  us,  than  we  have  to  mutilate  and 
enfeeble  them.  It  is  a  duty,  however  scanty  or  old 
our  garments  may  be,  to  see  that  they  be  neat  and 
clean,  and  that  our  persons  be  kept,  according  to  the 
best  of  our  ability,  in  a  manner  evincing  decency  and 
care.  I  have  sometimes  seen  young  men  passing 
through  the  corridors  of  college,  and  entering  the  reci 
tation  rooms,  and  even  the  prayer-hall,  with  their  dress 
so  broken,  slovenly  and  dirty,  as  manifested  little 
respect  either  for  their  instructors,  or  the  God  whom 
they  professed  to  worship,  or  even  for  themselves. 

But  there  is  another  extreme  against  which  every 
student  ought  to  be  put  on  his  guard.  I  mean  that  of 
inordinate  and  idolatrous  attention  to  dress,  which 
manifests  the  expenditure  of  much  time  and  money  on 
the  object,  and  which  designates  the  fop  and  the  dandy. 
The  wise  youth,  the  real  gentleman,  will  always  try 
to  dress  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  draw  attention  at 
all  to  his  dress.  His  only  study  will  be  to  have  it 
always  so  plain,  simple,  neat,  and  becoming  his  charac 
ter,  as  that  no  one  will  find  occasion  to  take  special 
notice  of  it.  Happily  you  are  not  able  to  dress  in  a 
profuse  and  expensive  manner.  The  circumstances  of 
your  father  forbid  your  indulging  yourselves  in  that 
ornate  and  splendid  costume  to  which  perhaps  your 
inclination,  if  unrestrained,  might  lead.  But  if 
were  ever  so  wealthy,  my  judgment  would  be  against 
allowing  you  to  indulge  in  costly  and  extravagant 
adorning  of  the  body,  which  is  criminal  in  itself,  and 
which  seldom  fails  to  mark  the  frivolous  mind.  I  never 
knew  a  diligent  student,  a  really  good  scholar,  to 
indulge  in  this  habit ;  and  whenever  I  see  a  young 
man  falling  into  it,  I  always  involuntarily  set  him  down 
in  my  own  mind  as  a  poor  trifler. 


DRESS.  195 

If  you  ask  me,  where  is  the  harm  of  indulging  in 
Bhowy  and  expensive  habits  of  dress  ?  I  answer,  it 
must  occupy  a  large  share  of  time  and  attention,  which 
ought  to  be  bestowed  on  better  objects ;  and  hence 
those  students  who  are  distinguished  by  ostentatious 
and  expensive  clothing  are  never  good  scholars.  It 
would  be  almost  encroaching  on  the  province  of  a 
miracle  if  they  were.  But  this  is  not  all.  This  habit  is 
adapted  to  do  mischief  among  their  fellow  students. 
Those  who  cannot  afford,  and  ought  not  to  attempt  to 
indulge  in  the  same  habit,  are  often  tempted  to  imitate 
it,  and  thus  their  parents  become  unnecessarily  involved 
in  an  expense  altogether  inconvenient  and  perhaps 
distressing.  By  this  means  the  cost  of  a  college  edu 
cation  is  greatly  increased,  and  placed  beyond  the 
reach  of  many  who  might  otherwise  enjoy  it.  Nor  is 
this  the  worst  effect.  By  emulating  the  habits  in  this 
respect  of  the  sons  of  the  wealthy,  the  sons  of  those 
in  less  affluent  circumstances  are  tempted,  contrary  to 
the  laws  of  the  college,  to  get  that  upon  improper 
credit,  which  they  were  not  able  to  pay  for,  and  which 
ought  never  to  have  been  gotten  at  all,  and  thus  shut 
themselves  up  to  the  distressing  and  humiliating  di 
lemma,  of  either  bringing  an  unauthorized  and  burden 
some  debt  on  their  parents  ;  or  of  ultimately  defrauding 
the  tradesman  who  was  weak  enough,  or  wicked  enough 
to  give  them  credit.  If  there  be  any  student  so  un 
principled  as  to  reply,  that  he  does  not  feel  bound  to 
regard  such  considerations — that  he  cares  for  nothing 
but  his  own  comfort — be  it  known  to  such  an  one, 
that  he  stands  on  substantially  the  same  ground  with 
the  burglar  and  the  highwayman,  who  act  upon  the 
principle  of  consulting  their  own  comfort  at  the  expense 
of  others,  which  is,  in  fact,  the  vital  spirit  of  all  crime. 

There  is  another  fault  in  regard  to  dress,  of  which  I 
cannot  help  expressing  strong  reprobation.  I  mean 
the  disposition  manifested  by  some  to  wear  fantastic 
dresses,  not  particularly  expensive,  perhaps  not  so  ex 
pensive  as  many  plainer  and  more  simple  garments ; 


196  DRESS. 

but  whimsical,  queer,  and  adapted  to  excite  ridicule 
wherever  they  are  seen.  I  remember  one  young  man, 
who,  a  number  of  years  ago,  appeared  in  our  college 
campus,  and  in  our  streets,  in  a  dress  of  the  most  ridi 
culous  kind.  Wherever  he  went  he  attracted  the  no-- 
tice,  and  excited  the  laughter  of  all  classes.  This 
seemed  to  gratify  him  ;  for  he  was  incapable  of  attain 
ing  any  more  laudable  distinction  ;  and  he  persisted 
in  wearing  the  garment  for  a  considerable  time.  He 
was  hissed,  and  all  but  insulted  by  the  boys  in  the 
streets,  and  might  have  been  involved  in  serious  broils 
with  his  assailants,  had  he  not,  fortunately,  possessed 
a  baby-like  weakness,  rather  than  an  irritable  or  pug 
nacious  temperament.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  such 
a  dress  might  involve  its  wearer  in  perpetual  difficulty, 
and  even  in  fatal  conflicts. 

It  is  well  known,  that  in  some  literary  institutions 
there  is  a  prescribed  dress,  or  uniform,  in  which  all  its 
pupils  daily  appear,  and  which  it  is  not  lawful  to  lay 
aside,  excepting  in  vacation,  when  absent  from  the  in 
stitution,  or,  at  any  rate,  exempt  from  its  rules.  There 
appear  to  me  to  be  some  very  substantial  advantages 
in  this  regulation.  In  the  first  place,  it  promotes  eco 
nomy  ;  for  the  prescribed  dress  is  always  plain,  simple, 
cheap,  and  easily  procured,  and  when  obtained  by  whole 
sale,  for  large  numbers,  will  be,  of  course,  reduced  in 
price.  Secondly,  it  destroys  that  expensive  emulation 
in  dress,  to  which  I  have  before  referred,  as  so  full  of 
mischief.  As  all  must  dress  alike,  it  leaves  no  room 
for  ostentatious  display.  And  thirdly,  where  this  rule 
is  in  operation,  all  the  students  of  the  institution  are 
known  by  their  costume ;  so  that  the  moment  they  are 
seen,  they  can  be  distinguished  from  all  others.  This 
appears  to  me  an  effect  of  no  small  importance.  I 
have  always  considered  it  as  highly  desirable  that  the 
pupils  of  any  institution  should  be  distinguishable  at 
all  times,  day  and  night,  from  the  youth  of  the  sur 
rounding  population.  It  operates  as  a  restraint,  as  a 
safeguard,  and  has,  doubtless,  prevented  a  thousand 


DRESS.  197 

mischiefs,  which  would  otherwise  have  occurred,  and 
been  the  means  of  dragging  to  light  a  thousand  more 
which  might  have  been  for  ever  hidden  from  human 
view. 

For  myself,  I  have  always  regretted  that  the  old 
practice  of  wearing  the  black  gown  in  the  recitation 
room,  in  the  chapel,  and  on  all  public  occasions,  has 
been  laid  aside  by  the  students  of  Nassau  Hall,  and  I 
believe,  by  those  of  most  other  colleges  in  the  United 
States.  In  our  commencement  exercises  alone,  if  I 
mistake  not,  this  appendage  is  retained ;  and  in  some 
other  colleges  it  is,  even  on  these  occasions,  discarded. 
This  is,  in  my  opinion,  an  improvement  the  backward 
way.  I  have  no  doubt  that  this  particular  costume 
had,  when  it  was  worn,  a  beneficial  effect  on  the  feel 
ings  of  the  individual  who  wore  it ;  that  it  led  him  to 
recollect  his  responsibility  ;  to  feel  that  he  was  ob 
served,  and  to  maintain  a  deportment  growing  out  of 
this  feeling.  Nor  can  I  hesitate  to  believe,  that  an 
impression  was  made  by  it  on  the  minds  of  ofhers  by 
no  means  without  profit.  Forms  may  be  carried  so 
far  as  to  eat  out  all  substance ;  but  it  is  also  true,  that 
they  may  be  so  far  abandoned  as  to  carry  all  refine 
ment  and  decorum,  and  especially  all  dignity,  with 
them. 

17* 


LETTER  XVII. 

CARE  OF  THE  STUDENT'S  ROOM. 


"  He  who  can  sit  with  comfort  in  a  disorderly  room,  cannot 
have  an  orderly  mind." — ANON. 


MY  DEAR  SONS — The  maxim  of  the  lawyers,  De 
minimis  non  curat  lex,  though  wise  and  applicable  in 
juridical  matters,  is  not  equally  safe  and  sound  in 
many  of  the  affairs  of  common  life,  and  especially  in 
the  large  department  of  human  conduct,  comprehended 
under  the  general  title  of  personal  manners  and  habits. 
The  comfort  of  ordinary  life  depends  much  less  upon 
great  actions  and  movements,  which  occur  only  now 
and  then,  than  on  the  minor  concerns  of  temper,  lan 
guage  and  order,  which  belong  to  every  hour,  and 
exert  an  influence  on  all  the  enjoyments  of  life. 

The  maintenance  of  perfect  order,  in  the  apartment 
which  you  occupy,  is  a  matter  of  more  importance, 
and  has  a  more  direct  bearing  on  your  comfort,  and 
even  your  success  in  study,  than  you  would,  at  first 
view,  imagine.  So  deep  is  my  persuasion  of  this,  that 
I  am  induced  to  make  it  the  subject  of  a  distinct  but 
brief  letter,  which,  I  trust,  will  be  sufficiently  interest 
ing,  in  your  view,  to  engage  your  serious  attention. 

If  the  motto  which  stands  at  the  head  of  this  letter 
be  considered  as  expressing  a  correct  sentiment,  then 
the  subject  of  it  ought  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  trivial 
matter.  That  which  either  indicates  a  disorderly  mind, 
or  which  is  adapted  to  increase  and  perpetuate  this 

(  198  ) 


199 

evil,  surely  ought  to  be  avoided  with  studious  care. 
Many  people  judge  of  a  student  by  the  appearance  of 
his  room :  and  certainly  when  it  lies  in  disorder  and 
dirt,  no  favourable  estimate  of  his  character  can  pos 
sibly  be  drawn  from  it. 

It  is  possible  that  some  students  who  affect  slovenli 
ness  in  their  dress,  as  an  evidence  that  they  are  too 
much  absorbed  in  study  to  think  of  their  persons,  may 
affect  the  same  carelessness  in  regard  to  the  apart 
ments  which  they  occupy.  I  will  not  pronounce  all 
such  appearances  the  result  of  mere  affectation;  but, 
beyond  all  doubt,  they  mark  a  lamentable  defect  of 
character,  and  cannot  fail  to  deduct  seriously  from 
both  the  comfort  and  the  usefulness  of  the  individual 
to  whom  they  belong. 

A  disorderly  and  unclean  apartment  is  unfriendly  to 
the  comfortable  and  uninterrupted  pursuit  of  study. 
The  physical  inconvenience  to  which  it  gives  rise,  can 
scarcely  fail  to  interfere  with  a  pleasant  flow  of  men 
tal  thought.  When  books  are  out  of  their  proper 
places  ;  when  all  the  means  of  study  are  in  disorder,  it 
would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  the  operations  of  the  mind 
could  proceed  in  as  smooth  and  unobstructed  a  man 
ner  as  if  the  external  circumstances  were  different. 

Make  a  point,  then,  of  keeping  everything  in  your 
study  in  a  state  of  perfect  neatness  and  regularity. 
Whether  your  books  be  few  or  many,  keep  them  in 
their  proper  places,  and  in  perfect  order.  Let  all 
your  manuscripts  be  so  arranged  as  that  you  shall  be 
able  to  lay  your  hand  upon  any  one  of  them  in  a  mo 
ment.  Tie  your  pamphlets  in  bundles,  in  a  certain 
order,  understood  by  yourself,  and  as  soon  as  may  be 
get  them  bound  in  convenient  volumes.  Fold,  label, 
and  deposit  in  proper  drawers,  all  loose  papers,  so  as 
to  be  at  no  loss  to  find  any  one  of  them  whenever 
called  for.  And  in  general,  let  everything  in  your 
study  bear  the  marks  of  order,  system,  and  perfect 
neatness.  You  can  have  no  conception,  without  hav 
ing  made  the  experiment,  how  much  time  and  trouble 


200 

will  be  saved  by  the  adoption  of  this  plan.  When  you 
are  tempted  to  think  that  you  have  not  time  to  put  a 
book  or  paper,  which  you  have  been  using,  into  its 
proper  place,  ask  yourselves  whether  it  may  not  cost 
you  an  hour  or  more  afterwards  to  search  for  that, 
which  half  a  minute  would  have  sufficed  to  deposit  in 
its  appropriate  situation.  Let  me  advise  you  also  to 
preserve  and  file  copies  of  all  your  letters,  and  especi 
ally  those  on  any  kind  of  business  ;  and  when  you  can 
not  find  time  for  this,  to  keep  at  least  a  distinct  memo 
randum  of  the  dates,  principal  contents,  conveyance,  &c., 
of  all  such  letters.  You  will,  in  the  end,  save  more 
time  by  this  regularity  than  you  can  now  easily  ima 
gine.  Among  the  many  omissions  in  my  early  life,  I 
have  a  thousand  times  lamented  my  having  omitted, 
for  many  years,  to  keep  copies  of  my  business  letters, 
and  to  preserve  and  file,  in  proper  order,  other  impor 
tant  papers,  so  as  to  have  them  accessible  at  any  time 
without  the  loss  of  a  moment.  How  much  time  I  have 
lost,  and  how  much  trouble  I  have  incurred  by  this 
failure,  no  arithmetic  at  my  command  can  calculate. 

Some  of  the  most  eminent  men,  for  wisdom  and  use 
fulness,  that  the  world  has  ever  seen,  were  remarkable 
for  their  attention  to  the  subject  of  this  letter.  Wash 
ington,  the  father  of  his  country,  from  his  early  youth, 
was  distinguished  for  his  perfect  method  and  neatness 
in  everything.  During  the  whole  of  his  public  life, 
we  are  told,  he  was  punctual  in  filing  and  labeling 
every  paper,  however  small,  or  apparently  trivial, 
which  related  to  any  concern  or  act  of  his  life ;  even 
notes  of  ceremony ;  not  knowing  what  measure  of  im 
portance  any  such  paper  might  afterwards  assume. 
So  that  no  written  document  could  be  called  for,  relat 
ing  to  his  official  life,  which  he  could  riot  at  any  time 
produce. 

Let  no  student  say,  that  his  papers  can  never  be  so 
important  as  were  those  of  Washington ;  and  that, 
therefore,  there  cannot  be  the  same  inducement  to  pre 
serve,  and  keep  them  in  order.  It  is,  indeed,  by  no 


CARE   OF  THE   STUDENT'S   BOOM.  201 

means  probable  that  your  papers  will  be  as  important 
to  the  public,  as  those  of  that  illustrious  man  were ; 
but  they  may  be  of  quite  as  much  importance  to 
yourself;  and  no  man  can  tell  of  how  much  interest 
they  may  be  to  your  country.  Peculiar  and  unex 
pected  circumstances  may  invest  them  with  a  degree 
of  importance  which  you  cannot  now  anticipate.  At 
any  rate,  disposing  them  in  proper  and  convenient 
order,  and  depositing  them  where  they  may  be  found 
in  a  moment,  will  occupy  but  little  time,  and  may, 
long  afterwards,  serve  purposes  which  you  little  ima 
gined. 

The  celebrated  Mr.  Whitefield,  that  "prince  of 
preachers,"  in  the  last  century,  was  greatly  distin 
guished,  from  early  life,  for  neatness  in  his  person,  for 
order  in  his  apartment,  and  for  regular  method  in  his 
affairs.  He  was  accustomed  to  say,  that  a  minister 
should  be  "  without  spot ;"  and  remarked,  on  one  oc 
casion,  that  he  could  not  feel  comfortable,  if  he  knew 
that  his  gloves  were  out  of  their  proper  place.  The 
advantages  of  establishing  such  habits  are  too  numer 
ous  to  be  specified.  They  save  time ;  and  the  degree 
of  comfort  they  give  cannot  be  easily  measured. 

The  biographers  of  the  late  celebrated  Mr.  Wilber- 
force  tell  us,  that  that  great  and  good  man  was  rather 
remarkably  careless  in  regard  to  regularity  and  order 
in  his  study.  While  he  was  indefatigably  diligent  in 
his  labours  for  the  public,  his  books  and  papers  were 
always  in  disorder,  lying  in  heaps,  and  frequently  giv 
ing  rise  to  perplexity  and  delay,  in  searching  for  that 
which  was  wanted.  On  more  than  one  occasion,  im 
portant  papers,  when  called  for  by  some  of  the  most 
elevated  persons  in  the  kingdom,  were  out  of  their  pro 
per  place,  and  not  to  be  found  ;  which  gave  rise  to  an 
agitation  and  loss  of  time  not  a  little  painful. 

Good  farmers  and  mechanics  tell  us,  that  it  is  im 
portant  to  have  ua  place  for  everything,  and  every 
thing  in  its  place."  This  maxim  is  quite  as  applicable 
and  important  to  the  student  as  to  any  one  else.  The 


202       CARE  OF  THE  STUDENT'S  ROOM. 

punctual  observance  of  it  not  only  saves  time,  as  the 
slightest  consideration  will  evince,  but  it  tends  to  pre 
serve  tranquillity  of  mind  ;  and  what  in  many  cases  is 
still  more  important,  it  may  prevent  the  entire  loss  of 
papers,  books,  or  other  articles  left  out  of  their  proper 
places. 


LETTER  XVIII, 
EXPENSES. 

"  «£f tSto  fcov  xff avttv.' 
"  Suum  cuique." 


MY  DEAR  SONS — It  is  well  known  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  students  in  our  colleges  belong  to  families 
in  very  moderate,  and  not  a  few  of  them  in  straitened 
circumstances,  insomuch  that  many  of  them  find  it  ex 
tremely  difficult  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  institu 
tion  ;  and  to  some  it  would  be  impossible  without  the 
aid  of  charitable  funds.  If  we  could  go  through  all 
the  classes  in  these  institutions,  and  examine  the  real 
circumstances  of  each  individual,  we  should  find  many 
parents  subjecting  themselves  and  their  families  to  the 
most  pinching  economy,  really  denying  themselves  some 
comforts,  which  many  would  call  indispensable,  for  the 
sake  of  sustaining  their  sons  through  a  course  of  educa 
tion.  In  other  cases  we  should  see  sons  subjecting  them 
selves  to  a  rigour  of  economy  truly  severe,  and  which,  if 
it  could  be  generally  known,  would  be  regarded  as  at 
once  marvellous  and  honourable,  as  marking  extraor 
dinary  decision  of  character. 

While  this  is  the  case  with  one  class  of  students, 
there  is  another  whose  course  belongs  to  the  opposite 
extreme.  Their  supplies  of  money  are  abundant.  In 
consequence  of  this  they  are  profuse  and  wasteful. 
Some  are  permitted,  and  even  encouraged  by  unwise 

(203) 


204  EXPENSES. 

parents,  to  indulge  in  habits  of  unnecessary  expense ; 
and  others,  stimulated  by  this  example,  but  less  able  to 
follow  it,  in  spite  of  every  charge  that  can  be  given 
them  to  the  contrary,  give  way  to  those  habits,  and 
recklessly  incur  debts  which  prove  greatly  oppressive 
to  their  parents,  and  sometimes  plunge  them  into  serious 
difficulties.  This  latter  class  of  students  may  be  con 
sidered  as  the  pests  of  all  literary  institutions ;  and, 
next  to  the  grossly  immoral  and  profligate,  (with  whom 
indeed,  they  are  too  often  very  closely  connected)  the 
means  of  the  greatest  injury  to  their  fellow  students. 
When  a  student  has  much  money  in  his  pocket,  or  feels 
confident  that  he  can  rely  on  receiving  what  he  wishes, 
the  mischiefs  arising  from  this  source  are  so  multiplied, 
and  so  very  serious,  that  it  is  wonderful  wealthy  parents 
will  ever  allow  their  children  to  be  laden  with  such  a 
curse. 

The  mischiefs  growing  out  of  this  "  plethora  of  the 
pocket"  to  the  students  themselves  who  possess  it,  are 
more  injurious  and  deplorable  than  any  one  would 
imagine  who  had  not  personally  watched  the  process 
of  such  things.  He  who  has  money  to  spend,  will,  of 
course,  have  objects  to  spend  it  upon ;  and  these  ob 
jects  will  certainly  be,  to  a  great  extent,  hurtful.  He 
will  seldom  fail  to  indulge  himself  in  extra  eating  and 
drinking,  which,  from  their  unwholesome  nature,  as  well 
as  from  their  leading  to  excess  in  quantity,  will  fre 
quently,  if  not  always,  do  more  or  less  harm  to  his 
health.  To  load  the  stomach  with  confectionery,  and 
other  luxuries  ;  to  eat  hot  suppers  over  and  above  all 
ordinary  meals ;  to  indulge  in  every  rare  and  expensive 
viand,  adapted  to  stimulate  the  appetite,  and  eventually 
to  bring  on  a  morbid  state  of  the  system ; — these  are 
the  habits  which  every  young  man  who  is  flush  of  money 
is  tempted  to  form  ;  and  that  their  influence  must  be 
morbid  and  unhappy,  and  may  lead  to  fatal  diseases, 
no  one  who  reflects  on  the  subject  can  doubt.  But 
these  evils  are  not  the  whole  of  the  mischief  to  be 
apprehended.  The  vices  of  students  are  commonly 


EXPENSES.  205 

social.  In  partaking  of  their  luxurious  meals  and 
other  indulgences,  they  are  fond  of  having  companions  ; 
and  they  take  pride  in  imparting  of  their  plenty  in  this 
respect,  gratuitously,  to  those  who  are  not  so  plentifully 
provided  with  the  means  of  indulgence.  This  extends 
the  mischief  in  two  ways.  It  increases  the  number  of 
those  who  are  ensnared  and  injured ;  and  it  tempts 
both  parties,  by  the  influence  of  the  gregarious  princi 
ple,  to  eat  and  drink  more  than  either  would  alone. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Those  who  are  placed  under  no  stint 
with  regard  to  money,  are  tempted  to  be  dissipated ;  to 
neglect  their  studies ;  to  be  arrogant  and  assuming  ;  to 
indulge  themselves  in  various  irregular  practices,  un 
friendly  to  study,  and  adapted  to  betray  them  into 
various  forms  of  disorderly  conduct.  All  experience 
testifies  that  such  students  are  usually  .the  most  disor 
derly  in  the  institution ; — very  seldom  even  tolerable 
scholars, — and  so,  frequently  the  subjects  of  painful 
and  disreputable  discipline,  and  these  unhappy  results 
may  be  confidently  calculated  upon  the  moment  any 
young  man  appears  with  a  plentiful  supply  of  money 
in  his  pocket. 

You  have  reason  to  be  thankful,  my  dear  sons,  that 
the  comparative  poverty  of  your  father  cuts  you  off 
from  these  temptations.  And  I  hope  you  consider  this 
circumstance  as  a  real  advantage  rather  than  the  con 
trary.  Still  allow  me  to  put  you  on  your  guard  against 
some  temptations,  which,  notwithstanding  this  restric 
tion  on  your  means,  may  sometimes  assail  you. 

1.  Never  be  ashamed  of  your  narrow  circumstances. 
Never  affect  to  have  money  at  will.  Never  allow  your 
wealthy  fellow  students  to  imagine  that  you  envy  them, 
or  that  you  wish  to  emulate  their  dress,  their  appear 
ance,  and  their  liberality  of  expenditure.  I  have  some 
times  felt  regret  and  mortification  to  see  students, 
who  in  intellectual  and  moral  worth  stood  among  the 
very  first  of  their  classes,  who  struggled  to  appear  as 
well  dressed  as  their  wealthier  companions,  and  seemed 
to  give  way  to  a  painful  sense  of  inferiority  if  they 
18 


206  EXPENSES. 

were  unable  to  do  it.  There  is  a  littleness  in  this  of 
which  a  high-minded  youth  ought  to  be  ashamed.  Some 
of  the  most  eminent  and  highly  honoured  men  that  the 
world  ever  saw,  commenced  their  career  in  absolute 
poverty,  and,  what  was  much  to  their  credit,  were  never 
ashamed  in  their  highest  advancement,  to  recollect  and 
advert  to  their  humble  origin.  Nay  more,  there  was 
every  reason  to  believe  that  their  poverty,  instead  of 
being  a  disadvantage,  was  the  stimulus  which  urged 
them  on  to  diligence  in  study — to  the  highest  efforts  of 
which  they  were  capable,  and  to  ultimate  greatness.  It 
was,  under  God,  the  making  of  them. 

2.  Never  accept  of  the  gratuitous  offers  of  your 
moneyed  fellow  students  to  share  their  luxuries  with 
them,  or  to  partake,  at  their  expense,  in  any  extra  food 
or  drink,  or  in  any  extra  amusement,  whether  lawful  or 
not,  in  which  they  may  solicit  you  to  accompany  them. 
It  is  not  safe  to  associate  much  with  such  students.     It 
may  expose  you  either  to  real  disorder,  or,  at  any  rate, 
to  the  suspicion  of  the  faculty,  either  of  which  ought 
to  be  sacredly  avoided.     There  is  also  something  painful 
to  me,  and  I  presume  to  every  ingenuous  mind,  in  being 
indebted  to  the  bounty  of  such  a  young  man  for  any 
enjoyment.     Very  few  such  young  men  have  any  real 
magnanimity;  and   they  may  imagine  hereafter  that 
you  are  their  debtors,  and  feel  as  if  you  ought  to  recog 
nize  this  debt,  and  be  ready  to  return   or  acknowledge 
it.     I  have  known  gratuities  of  this  kind  to  be  cast  in 
the  teeth  of  those  who  consented  to  receive  them,  years 
afterwards,  and  to   inflict   not    a    little    mortification. 
Never  accept  such  gratuities.     Whenever  and  by  whom 
soever   offered,  decline  them  with   the  respectfulness 
and  urbanity  of  gentlemen,  but  with  inflexible  firmness. 

3.  Never  purchase  anything  that  is  not  indispen 
sable,  while  matters  absolutely  necessary  remain  un 
provided  for.     What  would  you  think  of  a  student  who 
should  expend  twenty  or  thirty  dollars  for  a  splendid 
set  of  books,  which  he  could  easily  do  without,  while  he 
had  not  wherewithal  to  pay  his  daily  board,  or  to  dis- 


EXPENSES.  207 

charge  his  bill  for  necessary  clothing  ?  Let  the  honest 
principle,  of  giving  to  every  one  and  to  every  claim 
what  is  justly  due,  and  making  a  corresponding  calcu 
lation  in  all  your  expenditures,  at  all  times,  and 
throughout  life,  govern  you. 

4.  Never  think  of  obtaining  on  credit  what  you  have 
not  the  cash  to  pay  for  at  the  moment ;  especially 
never  consent  thus  to  obtain  that  which  is  a  mere  lux 
ury,  and  which,  of  course,  you  can  do  without.  I 
have  personally  known  students,  who  were  the  sons  of 
parents  in  very  moderate  and  even  straitened  circum 
stances,  who  had  so  little  self-command,  that,  when 
their  pockets  were  empty,  they  would  obtain  on  credit 
mere  luxuries,  and  sometimes  those  of  a  very  expen 
sive  kind ;  and,  perhaps,  at  the  end  of  a  session,  had 
a  bill  brought  in,  the  amount  of  which  astonished  them 
selves,  and  greatly  incommoded  their  parents.  The 
practice  of  purchasing  on  credit,  articles  which  are  not 
necessary,  is  one  which  the  wise,  with  one  consent, 
agree  in  denouncing.  It  not  only  leads  to  all  the  evils 
just  alluded  to,  but  also  to  another  no  less  serious. 
Those  who  purchase  on  credit  must  expect  to  pay  con 
siderably  more  for  a  given  article  than  those  who  pay 
the  cash.  The  seller  who  disposes  of  his  property  in 
this  way  always  calculates  on  losing  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  whole  by  delinquent  debtors.  To  meet 
and  cover  this  loss,  his  plan  is  to  add  a  certain  per 
centage  to  the  price  of  the  article  which  he  sells  on 
credit ;  so  that  the  pockets  of  his  punctual  debtors  are 
taxed  to  help  him  meet  the  loss  sustained  by  his  delin 
quent  ones.  My  solemn  advice,  therefore,  would  be 
that  you  never,  especially  now  in  your  minority,  pur 
chase  the  smallest  article  on  credit.  If  it  be  a  mere 
luxury,  not  strictly  speaking  needed  for  your  health 
or  comfort,  you  ought  not  to  purchase  it  at  all,  even 
if  you  had  the  money  in  your  pocket.  But  even  if  it 
be  a  necessary  of  life,  you  ought  to  postpone  the  pur 
chase  of  it  as  long  as  you  can,  to  avoid  the  payment 
of  a  double  price  for  it. 


208  EXPENSES. 

The  mischiefs  arising  from  the  students  of  our  col 
lege  purchasing  on  credit,  and  suffering  bills  against 
them  to  appear  with  unexpected  accumulation  at  the 
end  of  each  session,  has  proved  so  crying  an  evil,  and 
has  been  followed  with  so  many  consequences  injurious 
to  the  students  themselves,  and  to  their  parents,  that 
the  trustees  of  the  college  have  repeatedly  and  strongly 
remonstrated  against  the  practice,  and  have  even  gone 
so  far  as  to  entreat  the  parents  of  their  pupils  not  to 
pay  the  bills  for  articles  obtained  by  minors,  on  credit, 
contrary  to  the  public  notice  and  injunction  of  the 
college  government.  Nay,  under  a  deep  impression  of 
the  importance  of  the  subject,  the  Legislature  of  the 
state  of  New  Jersey  has  passed  an  act,  forbidding  any 
person  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  college  to  give  credit 
to  any  of  its  students,  excepting  for  articles  of  absolute 
necessity,  and  making  all  such  bills,  in  the  case  of 
minors,  irrecoverable  by  law. 

Many  a  young  man,  as  I  before  said,  whose  circum 
stances  were  straitened,  and  who  found  it  difficult  to 
meet  the  expenses  of  his  education,  has  been,  notwith 
standing,  in  the  end,  among  the  most  respected  and 
beloved  of  his  class,  far  more  so  than  the  most  wealthy. 
And  this  will  never  fail  to  be  the  case  with  any  student 
in  whose  character  the  following  circumstances  unite. 
First,  if  he  be  among  the  first  for  scholarship.  Se 
condly,  if  to  his  accomplishments  in  this  respect  he 
add  the  dignity,  polish,  and  amiableness  of  a  Christian 
gentleman ;  and,  thirdly,  if  he  make  it  appear,  by  all 
his  deportment  and  habits,  that  he  knows  how  to  esti 
mate  at  its  real  value  that  tinsel  importance  which 
wealth  alone  can  give.  I  once  knew  a  young  man  who 
was  the  most  indigent  individual  in  his  class.  But  he 
was,  at  the  same  time,  the  best  scholar,  and  the  most 
amiable,  polished,  and  well-bred  gentleman  of  the 
whole  number.  The  consequence  may  easily  be  ima 
gined.  He  was  felt  and  acknowledged  to  be  the  mas 
ter  spirit  of  the  class.  All  did  him  homage. 

You  see,  then,  how  important  it  is  that  all  orderly 


EXPENSES.  209 

students,  and  all  well-wishers  to  the  college,  should 
guard  with  sacred  care  against  everything  approach 
ing  to  an  infringement  of  this  rule,  fortified  by  a  civil 
enactment.  It  is  not  only  their  duty  to  avoid  every 
thing  of  this  kind  on  their  own  account,  but  also  for 
the  sake  of  example,  and  to  co-operate  in  carrying  into 
effect  a  regulation  so  vitally  important  to  the  comfort 
and  prosperity  of  the  college. 

I  hope,  my  dear  sons,  that,  as  faithful  alumni  of  the 
institution  to  which  you  owe  allegiance,  and  as  sincere 
patriots,  you  wish  to  act  in  this  whole  matter  of  ex 
pense,  in  such  a  manner  as  shall  tend  to  promote  on 
a  large  scale,  the  welfare  of  your  Alma  Mater,  and 
the  great  interests  of  knowledge  and  order  in  the  com 
munity.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  everything  which 
tends  to  increase  expense  in  the  college  must  exert  an 
unhappy  influence  in  a  variety  of  ways.  Wealthy  pa 
rents  do  not  consider  as  they  ought,  that  when  their 
sons  indulge  in  expensive  dress,  and  appear  able,  from 
day  to  day,  to  gratify  their  taste  by  larger  expenditure 
than  the  most  of  their  companions  in  study  can  afford, 
they  excite  uncomfortable  feelings  in  the  minds  of 
some  less  liberally  supplied  than  themselves ;  they 
tempt  others,  who  have  not  the  means,  to  endeavour  to 
vie  with  them  in  appearance  and  expenditure ;  they 
render  the  college  a  less  eligible  and  pleasant  place 
for  indigent  students ;  and  perhaps,  prevent  some  of 
this  character  from  ever  becoming  members  of  the 
institution.  In  this  way  it  is  that  by  every  violation 
of  wise  rules  and  principles,  the  great  interests  of 
knowledge  and  order  in  the  whole  community  are 
seriously  injured. 

I  take  for  granted  that  some  of  these  considerations 
will  appear  altogether  too  refined  and  abstract  to  have 
any  weight  on  the  minds  of  many  of  your  fellow  stu 
dents.  Each  one  will  be  ready  to  say — "  Am  I  my 
brother's  keeper  ?  It  is  enough  for  every  one  to  take 
care  of  his  own  claims  and  interests."  Is  this  the 
language  or  the  spirit  of  dutiful  sons,  when  weighing 
18* 


210  EXPENSES. 

the  claims  and  the  interests  of  their  beloved  Alma 
Mater  ?  Is  this  the  language  or  spirit  of  young  patriots, 
who  consider  it  as  a  privilege  and  an  honour,  as  well 
as  a  duty,  to  promote  the  great  cause  of  knowledge 
and  virtue  in  every  department  of  the  community  ?  I 
can  only  say,  if  there  be  any  who  feel  thus  and  speak 
thus,  they  manifest  a  narrowness  of  view,  and  a 
miserable  selfishness,  of  which  a  rational  and  accounta 
ble  creature,  and  especially  one  in  a  course  of  liberal 
education,  and  training  for  the  duties  and  responsibili 
ties  of  public  life  ought  to  be  ashamed. 

The  situation  of  your  father,  of  course,  renders  it  im 
possible  for  you  to  think  of  emulating  the  expensive 
indulgences  of  some  of  your  companions  in  study.  I 
trust,  my  dear  sons,  this  circumstance  will  not  give  rise  to 
one  moment's  pain,  nor  lead  you  to  feel  as  if  they  were, 
on  this  account,  your  superiors.  If  it  has  imposed  upon 
you  some  salutary  restraints ;  if  it  has  excited  you  to  more 
diligence  in  study,  and  more  unwearied  efforts  to  cul 
tivate,  enlarge,  and  strengthen  your  own  minds — you 
have  rather  reason  to  rejoice  than  to  mourn  that  your 
father  is  not  a  rich  man.  Never  give  way  to  the 
thought  that  money  makes  the  man  ;  or  that  mammon 
can  be  weighed  in  the  scale  against  scholarship  and 
virtue.  What  though  you  wear  less  expensive  garments, 
and  have  less  money  to  waste  on  injurious  indulgences 
than  some  of  your  classmates  ?  If  you  stand  at  the 
head  of  your  associates  in  literary  and  scientific 
attainments,  and  maintain  that  high  reputation  as 
young  gentlemen  of  integrity,  urbanity,  and  honour 
to  which  I  trust  you  will  ever  aspire,  you  may  rely  on 
it  that  the  son  of  the  proudest  nabob,  if  he  have  no 
other  distinction  than  that  which  his  wealth  gives 
him,  will  feel  himself  an  inferior  in  your  presence. 


LETTER    XIX. 
ALMA  MATER. 

Jubcmus  to  salvere,  Mater! — PLAUTUS. 

My  Dear  Sons — You  are  aware  that  the  technical 
title  which  the  dutiful  and  grateful  son  of  a  college 
gives  to  his  literary  parent,  is  Alma  Mater.  The 
word  alma  primarily  conveys  the  idea  of  cherishing  or 
nourishing,  but  it  may  also  be  considered  as  signifying 
holy,  fair,  benign,  pure.  And  I  take  for  granted  that 
every  alumnus  of  such  an  institution,  who  has  acted 
the  part  of  a  dutiful  son  while  under  her  care,  and  who 
has  received  from  her  that  faithful  and  affectionate 
training  which  is  never  withheld  from  the  docile  and 
the  reverential  pupil,  will  be  ever  ready  to  say  of  his 
literary  parent,  with  all  the  delightful  emotions  of 
filial  respect  and  gratitude — "  Alma  Mater  !  Sit  sem 
per  florens,  semper  honoratissima,  semper  beata  /" 

It  is  a  maxim  in  common  life,  that  when  any  young 
man  manifests  no  respect  for  his  mother,  the  conclusion 
is  irresistible  ; — either  that  she  is  unworthy,  or  that  he 
is  a  brute.  If  this  is  always  the  case  with  a  mother 
according  to  the  flesh,  the  maxim  holds,  with  equal 
uniformity,  and  with  equal  force,  in  regard  to  a  literary 
parent.  Whenever  you  meet  with  an  alumnus  of  a 
college  who  manifests  no  affection,  no  respect  for  the 
institution  in  which  -he  has  been  trained,  you  may 
generally  take  for  granted,  without  inquiring  further, 
that  he  is  an  unworthy  son,  who  during  his  connection 
with  her,  acted  so  undutiful  a  part  as  to  embitter  all 
his  own  recollections  of  that  connection ;  and  to  leave 

I2" •} 


212  ALMA   MATER. 

no  impression  on  her  mind  which  she  can  remember 
but  with  pain. 

The  duties  which  a  faithful  son  owes  to  a  worthy 
mother  are  so  many,  and  at  the  same  time  so  obvious, 
that  it  may  seem  unnecessary  to  recount  them.  Yet 
as  the  duties  due  to  literal  mothers,  plain  and  indubi 
table  as  they  are,  are  too  often  forgotten  and  neglected 
by  unworthy  children  according  to  the  flesh ;  so  the 
obligations  by  which  educated  young  men  are  bound  to 
their  literary  mothers  are  so  seldom  duly  recognized  or 
faithfully  discharged,  that  a  brief  allusion  to  some  of 
them  is  by  no  means  a  superfluous  task. 

1.  The  first  duty  which  every  alumnus  of  a  college 
owes  to  his  Alma  Mater  is  to  recognize  his  obligation 
to  her,  and  to  cherish  those  sentiments  of  respect, 
veneration,  and  gratitude,  to  which  she  is  entitled  at 
his  hands.  This  obligation  is  real  and  deep,  and  ought 
ever  to  be  remembered  and  acknowledged.  Every 
young  man  who  has  passed,  or  is  passing  through  a 
course  of  study  in  a  literary  institution,  who  has  been 
faithfully  instructed,  and  made  the  subject  of  whole 
some  parental  discipline,  is  deeply  indebted  to  that 
institution,  and  ought  to  cherish  a  strong  and  perma 
nent  impression  of  his  debt.  What  though  he  may  be 
able  to  see  faults  in  his  literary  mother  ?  VV7hat  though 
some  parts  of  her  discipline  may  have  been  painful  to 
him  ?  Yet  his  obligation  is  not  thereby  destroyed,  or 
even  impaired.  The  probability  is,  that  he,  and  not 
the  college,  was  to  blame  for  every  penalty  that  fell 
upon  him,  for  every  frown  which  she  manifested  toward 
him ;  nay,  that  every  act  of  severity  which  gave  him 
temporary  pain,  and  of  which  he  may  be  sometimes 
ready  to  make  complaint,  was  demanded  by  fidelity  to 
his  best  interest,  and,  instead  of  diminishing,  does  but 
increase  his  obligation. 

I  hope,  then,  my  dear  sons,  that  wherever  you  may 
sojourn  or  settle  in  future  life,  in  the  exercise  of  a  true 
filial  spirit,  you  will  cherish  a  strong  and  lively  sense 
of  obligation  to  your  Alma  Mater.  Whatever  may  be 


ALMA   MATER.  213 

said  of  her  defects,  she  has  been  a  faithful  mother  to 
you.  For  every  frown  you  may  have  received  from 
her,  for  every  rod  of  correction  she  may  have  inflicted 
upon  you,  instead  of  being  offended,  you  ought  to  feel 
more  deeply  her  debtors.  And  this  debt,  it  will  be 
equally  pleasant  to  her,  and  honourable  to  yourselves, 
ever  to  bear  in  mind,  and  gratefully  to  acknowledge  as 
long  as  you  live.  Whenever  I  find  a  student  greatly 
attached  to  the  college  in  which  he  is  pursuing  his 
studies,  or  after  he  has  left  it,  cherishing  a  strong  filial 
spirit  toward  it,  I  involuntarily  adopt  conclusions 
favourable  to  his  character  as  a  son.  I  take  for  granted 
that  he  has  been  a  dutiful,  diligent,  and  orderly  student ; 
that  his  connection  with  his  Alma  Mater  was  creditable 
to  himself,  as  well  as  pleasant  to  her ;  and  that  every 
word  he  utters  in  her  favour  ought  to  be  considered  as 
redounding  to  his  own  honour. 

2.  If  you  are  thus  indebted  to  your  Alma  Mater, 
ought  you  not  to  abhor  the  thought  of  destroying  her 
property,  or  doing  anything  that  can  possibly  tend  to 
her  injury  ?  The  most  wonderful  infatuation  concern 
ing  this  point  seems  to  possess  the  minds  of  many 
members  of  our  colleges.  When  they  become  dissatis 
fied  on  any  account  with  their  instructors,  one  of  the 
first  things  they  think  of  is  to  wreak  their  vengeance 
on  some  portion  of  the  college  property  ;  to  destroy  or 
deface  some  part  of  the  public  edifices,  or  their  furni 
ture.  This,  they  imagine,  will  most  effectually  spite 
and  mortify  the  faculty,  the  object  of  their  resentment. 
But  there  never  was  a  more  miserable  misapprehension, 
or  a  more  fiend-like  and  malignant  spirit.  The  pro 
perty  of  the  institution  is  all  vested  in  the  board  of 
trustees,  the  legal  curators  of  all  her  interests.  Of 
course,  when  injury  is  done  to  any  of  these  interests, 
it  falls,  not  on  the  faculty,  but  on  the  college ;  impair 
ing  her  strength,  diminishing  her  power  of  doing  good, 
and  of  course  rendering  her,  so  far  as  the  injury  goes, 
less  of  a  blessing  to  the  community. 

What  would  be  thought  of  a  young  man,  who,  when 


214  ALMA   MATER. 

his  literal  mother,  after  a  long  course  of  labour  and 
toil  for  his  benefit,  had  reproved  him  for  some  gross 
fault,  should  wreak  his  vengeance  on  her  dwelling  and 
furniture,  destroying  or  defacing  everything  within  his 
reach ;  thus  doing  all  in  his  power  to  vex  and  injure 
her  whom  he  was  bound  upon  every  principle  to  honour 
and  cherish  ?  He  would  be  pronounced  an  ungrateful, 
infatuated  demon,  setting  at  defiance,  at  once,  every 
dictate  of  reason,  duty,  self-interest,  and  self-respect, 
for  the  gratification  of  a  blind  and  brutal  passion. 

Equally  infatuated  and  demon-like  is  that  student, 
who,  when  by  his  own  folly  and  wickedness  he  has  sub 
jected  himself  to  merited  and  most  righteous  discipline, 
undertakes  to  resent  it.  and  to  give  expression  to  his 
anger,  not  by  assailing  the  persons  of  those  who  have 
offended  him,  which  he  knows  would  subject  him  to 
still  heavier  discipline,  but  by  attacking  the  property  of 
the  institution,  by  subjecting  to  serious  loss  those  from 
whom  he  has  never  received  anything  but  benefits. 

Still  less  apology  than  even  for  these,  can  be  made 
for  those  who,  without  any  provocation,  are  in  the 
habit,  from  mere  wantonness,  of  cutting  and  otherwise 
defacing  the  benches,  doors,  window-frames,  fences, 
&c.,  of  the  college,  rendering  them  odious  in  their  ap 
pearance,  and,  in  many  cases,  altogether  unfit  for  use. 
Is  this  the  conduct  which  becomes  dutiful  children, 
who  know  that  to  injure  their  mother  is  to  injure 
themselves  ?  Ever  remember,  my  dear  sons,  not  only 
that  the  property  of  the  college  is  not  yours  but  hers, 
and,  of  course,  that  you  have  no  right  to  injure  it  in 
the  least  degree;  but  that  your  right  to  injure  it  is 
even  less  than  if  you  were  its  rightful  owner.  If  it 
were  your  own,  you  might,  indeed,  do  as  you  pleased 
with  it ;  but  as  it  is  not  your  own,  you  ought  to  exer 
cise  afar  more  scrupulous  care  not  to  injure  it  than  if 
it  were.  But  even  more  than  this ;  it  belongs  to  a 
moral  parent,  to  whom  you  are  deeply  indebted,  and 
whom  to  injure  is  even  more  unreasonable  and  more 
criminal  than  if  you  stood  to  her  in  no  such  relation. 


ALMA   MATER.  215 

3.  Another  duty  which  you  now  owe,  and  will  ever 
owe  to  your  Alma  Mater,  is  to  be  jealous,  and  scru 
pulously  careful  of  her  good  name  and  honour.     If  the 
sons  of  a  great  literary  parent  are  not  jealous  of  her 
reputation,  and  do  not  stand  forth  as  the  advocates  of 
her  fame,  who  can  be   expected  to  do  it  ?     Let  no 
alumnus  say  of  his  Alma  Mater  that  he   cannot  con 
scientiously  praise  her ;  that  she  is  far  from  being  what 
he  could  wish.      To  whom  does  it  belong  to  try  to  im 
prove  her  condition,  and  raise  her  character,  but  to 
her  sons  ?     To  withhold  their  praise,  when  they  have 
not  done  all  in  their  power  to  render  her  worthy  of  it, 
is  as  ignoble  as  it  is  unjust.     This  consideration  leads 
me  to  say, 

4.  That  you  are  bound  to  study  and  endeavour,  to 
the  end  of  life,  to  do  all   in  your  power  to   elevate, 
strengthen,  enrich,  and  adorn  your  Alma  Mater  in  all 
her  interests.     In  this   respect   it  is  certain  that  the 
habits  of  our  ancestors   were  far  more  favourable  to 
literature  than  those  of  the  present  day.     Several  cen 
turies   ago,  it  was  common  for  eminent   and  wealthy 
men  in  the  old  world  to  exercise  splendid  munificence 
toward  the  seminaries  of  learning  in  which  they  were 
trained,  or  which  became,  on   any  ground,  objects  of 
their  favour.     They  erected  large  and  splendid  edifices 
for  libraries   and  halls ;  gave   ample   endowments  for 
their  support ;  founded  professorships  and  scholarships ; 
established  bursaries  and  premiums  for  the  encourage 
ment  of  pupils  ;  and  in  various  ways   contributed  to 
extend,  strengthen  and  adorn   the  nurseries  of  know 
ledge.     Almost   all   the   principal  buildings,  and  most 
sumptuous  foundations   in   the  universities  of  the  old 
world,  and  especially  of  Great  Britain,  were  established, 
not  by  the   universities  themselves,  out  of  their  own 
funds,  but  by  munificent  individuals,  many  of  whom 
have    by    this    laudable    liberality    transmitted    their 
names  with  honour  to  posterity.     Nor  has  this  praise 
worthy  practice  been  unknown   in  our   own  country. 
The  friends  of  Harvard  University  in  Massachusetts, 


216  ALMA   MATER. 

have  sot  the  noblest  example  of  this  kind  hitherto  pre 
sented  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  The  names  of 
Harvard,  and  Hollis,  and  Hancock,  and  Hersey,  and 
Erving,  to  say  nothing  of  several  still  more  munificent 
later  patrons,  are  all  worthy  of  honourable  commemo 
ration.  It  is  to  be  lamented  that  this  species  of 
liberality  has  been,  in  a  great  measure,  confined  to  the 
single  state  of  Massachusetts.  For  although  a  few 
cases  have  occurred,  both  in  the  West  and  the  South, 
of  large  endowments  to  literary  institutions,  yet  they 
have  been  indeed  "few  and  far  between;"  whereas 
they  have  occurred  in  the  State  just  mentioned  with  a 
remarkable  frequency,  which  indicated  a  state  of  public 
sentiment  altogether  peculiar.  Besides  the  benefactors 
to  Harvard  University  already  mentioned,  the  names 
of  Bartlet,  and  Norris,  and  Phillips,  and  Farrar,  will 
remind  you  of  men  who,  by  their  princely  munificence, 
have  erected  monuments  of  their  liberality  which  will 
be  long  remembered  with  honour. 

I  am  aware,  my  dear  sons,  that  you  are  never  likely 
to  be  able  to  do  much  in  the  way  of  endowments  in 
aid  of  your  Alma  Mater.  But  if  it  should  please  God 
to  prosper  you  in  your  worldly  circumstances,  you 
may  possibly  do  something  to  testify  your  good  will 
and  filial  regard.  And  I  charge  you,  if  you  should 
evervbe  able,  to  give  her,  either  during  your  lives,  or 
at  your  decease,  some  memorial  of  your  gratitude  and 
attachment.  If  you  can  do  no  more,  you  can  probably 
engage  some  wealthy  acquaintances,  who  have  few  or 
no  children,  in  making  a  testamentary  disposition  of 
their  property,  to  make  your  college,  at  least  in  part, 
their  legatee.  And  perhaps  you  yourselves,  without 
doing  wrong  to  any  survivor,  may  leave  to  her,  if  it  be 
but  a  hundred  or  two  dollars,  as  an  humble  testimonial 
of  grateful  regard.  If  even  this  were  done  by  all  her 
alumni  who  are  able  to  afford  it,  the  amount  would,  in 
a  few  years,  invest  her  with  a  degree  of  enlargement 
and  strength  greatly  conducive  to  her  comfort  and 
usefulness. 


ALMA   MATER.  217 

No  longer  ago  than  last  year  an  alumnus  of  the 
College  of  New  Jersey,  who  was  graduated  with  the 
class  of  1776,  and  had  filled  a  number  of  elevated  sta 
tions  in  society — left  in  his  last  will,  as  "  a  testimony 
of  attachment  to  his  venerated  Alma  Mater"  one 
hundred  volumes  of  books,  to  be  selected  from  his 
library  by  a  friend  whom  he  named,  and  added  to  the 
library  of  the  college.  This  was  accordingly  done ; 
and  the  legacy  was  received  and  acknowledged  with 
marked  pleasure  by  the  board  of  trustees.  Why  is 
not  something  of  this  kind  done  more  frequently  ?  If 
every  son  of  the  college,  who  has  it  in  his  power,  were 
to  do  likewise,  (and  some  could,  without  inconvenience, 
do  much  more,)  the  library  of  our  college  would,  in  a 
few  years,  become  enlarged  to  a  degree  greatly  grati 
fying  to  all  her  friends. 

The  truth  is,  if  all  the  friends  of  our  college  were 
cordially  desirous,  and  really  on  the  watch,  to  promote 
her  welfare,  they  might,  with  very  little  effort,  accom 
plish  for  her  an  amount  of  benefit  beyond  calculation. 
One,  for  example,  may  send  to  her  library,  from  his 
own  collection,  a  set  of  books,  or  a  single  volume  of 
rare  or  curious  character.  A  second,  who,  in  the 
course  of  his  travels,  meets  with  one  or  more  volumes 
of  great  rarity  or  value,  may  easily  prevail  on  the 
owner  to  present  them  to  the  college.  A  third,  at  an 
expense  of  seven  or  eight  hundred  dollars,  may  estab 
lish  a  fund  which  shall  produce  forty  or  fifty  dollars 
annually  to  be  applied  as  a  premium  for  ever,  and 
paid  to  the  best  classical  or  mathematical  scholar  in 
each  class  that  is  graduated.  A  fourth,  who  cannot 
do  it  himself,  may  prevail  on  some  acquaintance  of 
larger  means,  to  erect  a  spacious  fire-proof  library, 
which  has  long  been  greatly  wanted ;  or  a  convenient, 
ornamental  chapel,  which  is  equally  needed,  and  which 
might  bear  the  name  of  the  donor  for  ever.  A  fifth, 
who  is  fond  of  some  particular  science  taught  in  the 
institution,  may  be  willing  to  make  a  large  addition  to 
the  chemical  apparatus,  or  to  present  a  first-rate  tele- 


218  ALMA   MATER. 

scope,  to  aid  in  the  study  of  Astronomy.  Why — 0 
why  is  it  that  the  public  spirit,  the  zeal  for  the  promo 
tion  of  knowledge  which  operated  so  strongly  in  the 
minds  of  our  fathers,  and  produced  such  honourable 
results,  have  so  far  deserted  our  country,  or  at  any 
rate  these  middle  states  ?  I  hope,  my  dear  sons,  you 
will  do  all  in  your  power  to  revive  and  extend  them, 
and  try  to  stimulate  every  high-minded  alumnus  to 
become  a  benefactor,  in  some  way,  to  his  beloved 
literary  mother. 

The  fact  is,  every  alumnus  of  a  college  who  travels 
into  foreign  countries,  might,  not  only  without  sacri 
fice,  but  with  cordial  gratification  to  his  honourable 
feelings,  pick  up  in  a  hundred  places,  and  bring  home 
with  him,  specimens  of  Natural  History,  models  of 
Engines  and  Edifices,  Casts,  Statues,  Paintings,  Mine 
rals,  Coins,  Manuscripts,  &c.,  which  might  be  depo 
sited  on  her  shelves,  to  the  great  increase  of  her  repu 
tation,  and  to  the  enlargement  of  her  means  of  promot 
ing  the  improvement  of  her  pupils. 


LETTER    XX. 

PARENTS. 

"  Indulgentia  inepta  parentum." — ANON. 

MY  DEAR  SONS — You  may  feel  some  surprise  that 
a  letter  with  such  a  title  should  be  addressed  to  you. 
But  I  should  consider  this  manual  as  essentially  de 
fective,  were  it  not  to  contain  some  notice  of  the  bear 
ing  of  parental  influence  on  the  character  and  conduct 
of  many  young  men  in  college.  Your  own  reflections 
will  convince  you  that  this  influence  is  not  small,  and 
that  it  is  often  far  from  being  happy.  It  is  my  wish, 
therefore,  to  take  this  indirect  method  of  reaching  the 
consciences  and  the  hearts  of  those  parents  who,  per 
haps,  do  more  to  lead  their  sons  astray  than  they  them 
selves  ever  imagined ;  and  whose  mischievous  influence 
none  but  themselves  can  ever  fully  correct.  For  my 
part,  I  believe  that,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  bad 
conduct  of  the  young  is  referable  to  their  parents. 

And  I  begin  by  remarking,  that  many  parents  are 
so  negligent  or  so  unskilful  in  the  original  training  of 
their  children — if  training  it  may  be  called — that  they 
can  hardly  fail  to  become  disorderly  members  of  so 
ciety,  and  to  prove  a  perfect  nuisance  wherever  they 
go.  Where  children  are  suffered  to  grow  up  without 
restraint,  in  the  indulgence  of  every  wild  freak,  and 
wayward  temper ;  nay,  where  they  are  permitted  to  be 
the  governors  of  their  parents,  rather  than  compelled 
to  submit  to  their  authority,  what  can  be  expected  of 
such  children,  as  they  advance  in  age  and  in  stature, 
but  self-will,  turbulence,  and  every  species  of  revolting 

(219) 


220  PARENTS. 

insubordination  ?  Would  it  not  be  something  like  a 
miracle,  if  children  thus  abandoned  to  their  own  cor 
rupt  inclinations,  should  prove  otherwise  than  disor 
derly  and  troublesome  whenever  they  attempted  to 
mingle  with  decent  people  ?  The  very  element  of 
youth  thus  brought  up,  may  be  expected  to  be  insubor 
dination,  profaneness,  self-indulgence  in  every  form, 
forgetfulness  of  truth,  and  a  disregard  to  the  rights 
and  the  comfort  of  others. 

Many  such  young  men  are  sent  to  college,  and  there 
they  expect  to  govern,  as  they  had  done  at  home. 
There,  when  not  permitted  to  have  their  own  way  in 
everything,  and  even  to  invade  the  rights  of  others 
with  impunity,  they  think  themselves  hardly  and  op 
pressively  treated.  Nor  is  a  mistake  on  this  subject 
theirs  alone.  Their  parents  are  apt  to  participate  in 
it.  And,  therefore,  when  they  hear  that  their  sons 
have  drawn  upon  themselves  the  discipline  of  the  col 
lege,  or  been  sent  away  from  it,  they  are  filled  with 
surprise,  and  conclude  that  the  faculty  must,  of  course, 
be  to  blame.  Strange  infatuation  !  Surely  the  blind 
ness  of  parental  partiality  is  beyond  all  bounds  !  When 
children  are  not  taught  at  home  to  honour  and  obey 
their  parents  ;  to  love  and  observe  domestic  order ;  to 
regard  the  truth ;  to  avoid  profane  language  ;  to  pay 
respect  to  the  feelings  of  others,  what  can  be  expected 
when  they  leave  home,  and  are,  of  course,  removed 
from  the  eye  of  their  immediate  connections  ?  Can 
there  be  any  rational  hope  that  they  will  be  found 
comfortable  or  respectable  members  of  any  literary 
institution  to  which  they  may  be  sent  ?  As  well  might 
we  expect  to  "  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  this 
tles."  It  will  be  well,  indeed,  if  those  who  have  been 
taught  and  trained  in  the  best  manner,  shall  carry  with 
them  to  the  academy  and  the  college,  the  sentiments 
and  habits  which  have  been  inculcated  upon  them. 
But  where  the  parental  mansion  has  never  resounded 
with  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise ;  where  no  father's 
or  mother's  affection  has  ever  impressed  upon  their 


PARENTS.  221 

minds,  the  duty  of  obedience  to  the  laws  under  which 
they  are  placed  ;  of  reverence  for  God,  for  the  Bible, 
for  the  Lord's  day,  and  for  everything  sacred ;  and  of 
benevolent  regard  to  the  feelings  of  others,  we  cannot 
reasonably  hope  for  anything,  from  such  young  peo 
ple,  but  insubordination  and  every  evil  work.  If  the 
result  be  different,  every  one  who  contemplates  the 
circumstance,  regards  it  as  a  matter  of  wonder  and 
congratulation. 

We  are  told  of  an  ancient  Grecian  sage,  that,  when 
he  saw  any  young  person  behaving  ill  in  the  street,  or 
in  any  public  place,  he  immediately  went  to  the  house 
of  his  parents,  and  corrected  them,  as  the  probable 
cause  of  their  son's  delinquency.  The  conclusion  was 
wise,  and  the  course  taken,  rational.  When  I  see  a 
young  man  noisy,  insolent,  swaggering,  profane,  coarse 
in  his  manners,  and  disrespectful  to  his  superiors — I 
pity  him  ;  I  spontaneously  say  within  myself — "  poor 
lad  !  he  has  had  a  wretched  bringing  up ;  he  knows  no 
better;"  his  parents  have  either  known  no  better 
themselves,  or  they  have  had  neither  the  principle  nor 
the  skill  to  lead  him  in  the  right  way ;  and  hence  he 
has  grown  up  "like  a  wild  ass's  colt."  I  verily  be 
lieve  that  nine-tenths  of  all  the  disobedience  to  law, 
and  all  the  consequent  disorders  in  colleges,  are  to  be 
traced  to  the  unhappy  delinquencies  of  parents ;  and 
that  no  effectual  cure  of  the  evil  can  be  expected,  but 
through  the  medium  of  parental  reformation.  Oh,  if 
fathers  and  mothers — even  the  most  worldly  of  them — 
had  a  just  sense  of  what  their  sons  need  in  going  forth 
to  complete  their  education  ;  if  they  made  a  just  esti 
mate  of  what  true  politeness  is — that  it  does  not  con 
sist  in  fine  clothes — in  graceful  movements,  or  in  a 
haughty  strut  and  air ;  but  in  a  deportment  at  once 
respectful,  benevolent,  arid  adapted  to  make  all  around 
us  happy ;  what  a  different  aspect  would  all  our  social 
circles,  and  all  our  literary  institutions  present !  Pa 
rents  certainly  impose  a  heavy  and  most  unreasonable 
task  on  college  officers,  when  they  expect  them  to 
19* 


2227  PARENTS. 

make  scholars  and  gentlemen  of  stupid  asses,  head 
strong  rebels,  and  miserable  boors,  whom  they  found 
it  impossible  either  to  instruct  or  govern  at  home. 

But  this  is  not  the  whole  of  the  evil  which  flows 
from  parental  delinquency.  Parents  not  only  send  to 
college  young  men  without  any  of  the  qualities  which 
fit  them  to  be  either  wholesome  or  comfortable  mem 
bers  of  a  literary  institution ;  without  either  the  de 
corum  or  the  docility  which  prepare  them  to  be  suc 
cessful  or  even  tolerable  students ;  but  they  too  often 
set  themselves  against  the  efforts  of  the  faculty,  by 
faithful  instruction  and  discipline,  to  correct  the  faults 
and  better  the  character  of  their  children.  It  would 
be  distressing  to  recount  the  instances  in  which  parents 
have  become  grievously  offended  at  measures  of  the 
most  wise  and  indispensable  kind  to  promote  the  wel 
fare  of  their  sons.  I  have  known  many  cases  in 
which,  instead  of  feeling  grateful  to  the  authority  of 
college,  for  frowning  on  the  gross  disorders  of  their 
sons,  and  inflicting  the  lightest  discipline  that  could  be 
thought  of  for  their  offences,  they  have  taken  the  part 
of  their  sons  against  the  authority  ;  considered  them 
as  hardly  dealt  with  ;  and  encouraged  them  to  resist 
the  discipline  to  which  they  were  subjected.  The  in 
jury  done  to  young  men  by  this  conduct  on  the  part 
of  their  parents  cannot  be  calculated.  How  is  it  pos 
sible  to  conduct  discipline  with  success,  when  it  is  thus 
resisted  and  reviled  by  those  who  ought  zealously  to 
sustain  it  ?  What  encouragement  have  the  officers  of 
such  institutions  to  labour  and  toil  for  the  benefit  of 
youth,  when  those  who  ought  to  be  most  grateful  to 
them  for  their  painful  efforts,  turn  against  them,  and 
strengthen  the  hands  of  their  rebellious  children  ? 

I  must  say,  my  dear  sons,  that  in  the  course  of  a 
long  life,  I  have  no  recollection  of  having  ever  known 
an  instance  in  which  a  member  of  college  appeared  to 
me  to  have  been  visited  with  more  severe  discipline 
than  he  deserved.  My  impression  is,  that  where  there 
is  an  error  in  regard  to  this  matter,  it  is  almost  always 


PARENTS.  223 

the  other  way.  And,  therefore,  I  give  you  fair  warn 
ing  beforehand,  that  if  (what  I  hope  will  never  hap 
pen)  you  should  fall  under  the  lash  of  college  authority, 
you  must  not  expect  me  to  interpose  and  rescue  you 
from  it.  I  shall  take  for  granted,  anterior  to  all  in 
quiry  on  the  subject,  that  you  richly  deserve  all  you 
get  and  more. 

An  example  of  noble  bearing  on  this  subject  once 
occurred  in  Princeton,  which  I  cannot  forbear  to  re 
late,  as  affording  a  specimen  of  what  ought  much  more 
frequently  to  be  exhibited  than  we  find  to  be  the  case. 

General  C ,  a  highly  respectable  inhabitant  of  a 

neighbouring  city,  who  had  himself  had  two  sons  edu 
cated  in  our  college,  and  who  was,  therefore,  well 
acquainted  with  the  institution,  happened,  some  years 
ago,  to  be  passing  through  Princeton  on  the  very  day 
in  which  two  students  of  the  college  had  been  sus 
pended  and  ordered  to  go  home,  on  account  of  their 
disorderly  conduct.  They  came  into  the  hotel,  where 
the  General  had  stopped  to  refresh  himself,  and  were 
complaining  of  the  treatment  which  they  had  received 
from  the  faculty  of  the  college,  in  a  loud  manner,  and 
with  much  foul  language.  He,  at  first,  was  silent  ; 
but  their  vehement  complaints  being  continued,  and 
after  a  while  appearing  to  be  partly  addressed  to  him 
self — he  looked  at  them  writh  a  stern  countenance, 
and  said — "  Young  men,  I  know  nothing  of  you  or 
your  case  :  but  I  have  long  known  the  Faculty  of  New 
Jersey  College,  and  know  them  to  be  scholars  and  gen 
tlemen.  I  am  sure,  from  your  present  behaviour,  they 
are  in  the  right,  and  you  in  the  wrong ;  and  if  you 
were  my  sons,  I  would  drive  you  back,  with  a  good 
cowskin,  to  the  presence  of  the  faculty,  and  compel 
you  to  ask  their  pardon  on  your  knees."  Though  the 
culprits  did  not  know  him,  yet  his  age,  his  command 
ing  figure,  and  his  air  of  superiority  prevented  their 
giving  way  to  resentment.  But  it  is  hardly  necessary 
to  say,  that  they  slunk  out  of  the  apartment  abashed 
and  silent. 


224  PARENTS. 

It  is  earnestly  to  be  wished,  that  public  sentiment 
generally,  and  especially  the  sentiments  and  conduct 
of  the  leading  members  of  society,  might  always  be 
found  speaking  the  same  language,  and  taking  the  part 
of  rightful  authority,  against  juvenile  insubordination 
and  insolence.  But,  alas  !  this  is  so  far  from  being  the 
case  that,  perhaps,  no  complaint  is  better  founded  than 
that  which  mourns  over  the  prevalence  of  an  opposite 
course. 

The  following  remarks  by  the  venerable  Bishop 
Meade,  extracted  from  a  publication  from  his  pen 
noticed  in  a  former  letter,  are  worthy  of  being  so 
lemnly  regarded  by  every  parent.  "  On  this  subject, 
let  me  say  one  word  to  parents,  in  behalf  of  the  schools 
and  colleges  in  our  land.  Heavy,  indeed,  are  the  com 
plaints  of  teachers  and  professors  against  you  in  this 
respect.  I  hear  them  wherever  I  go.  You  are  consider 
ed  as  the  great  obstacles  to  the  right  government  of  youth 
in  our  literary  institutions  of  every  grade.  Those  who 
have  charge  of  your  children  declare,  that  you  withhold 
your  support  from  them  in  the  most  trying  emergency  ; 
that  your  blind  partiality  to  your  sons  leads  you  to  receive 
any  statement  they  may  make,  or  your  false  views  of  dis 
cipline  lead  you  to  palliate,  if  you  do  not  justify,  conduct 
which  is  perfectly  inadmissible  in  any  well  ordered  in 
stitution.  They  declare,  that  it  seldom  happens  that  a 
youth  is  dismissed,  without  finding  in  the  parent  one  to 
justify  him,  and  condemn  them." 

There  is  yet  another  way  in  which  parents  are  found 
not  only  to  injure  their  sons  in  college,  but  also  to 
inflict  a  serious  injury  on  the  character  and  all  the  best 
interests  of  the  institution  with  which  they  are  con 
nected.  I  mean  by  supplying  them  profusely  with 
money,  from  time  to  time,  and  thus  enabling  them  to 
gratify  their  appetites,  and  tempting  them  to  indulge 
in  freaks  of  wild  disorder,  and  of  mischievous  expendi 
ture.  This  infatuation  on  the  part  of  the  parents, 
has  proved  a  source  of  wider  and  more  irreparable 
mischief  than  I  could  easily  detail.  I  ain  very  sure 


PARENTS.  225 

that  if  parents  who  have  either  any  reflection  or  any 
principle,  could  be  made  to  understand  how  deeply 
such  profusion  on  their  part  is  adapted  to  injure  their 
sons,  and  to  injure  the  college,  they  would  no  more 
think  of  indulging  it,  than  they  would  the  thought  of 
sending  to  their  beloved  children,  every  month,  the 
most  virulent  poison  to  be  mingled  with  their  daily 
food. 

It  is  deeply  to  be  deplored  that  there  are,  around 
our  colleges,  so  many  persons  ready  to  be  mean  and 
criminal  purveyors  to  the  appetites  of  the  students ; 
who,  in  defiance  of  all  the  laws  of  the  state,  and  of 
the  authority  of  the  institutions  themselves ;  nay,  in 
defiance  of  all  the  dictates  of  their  own  ultimate  interest, 
spread  snares  for  their  feet,  and  lead  them  on,  in  many 
cases,  to  the  breaking  up  of  all  their  sober  habits,  and 
ultimately  to  their  eternal  destruction.  But  the  most 
astonishing  and  humbling  fact  of  all  is,  that  parents — 
who  have  the  deepest  interest  in  the  welfare  of  their 
children,  and  who  might  be  expected  to  feel  for  the  well- 
being  of  the  children  of  others — cannot  be  persuaded  to 
frown  on  those  unprincipled  conspirators  against  youth, 
and  to  try  and  make  them  feel,  in  the  only  way  in 
which  they  seem  capable  of  feeling — I  mean  in  their 
pockets — that  they  are  engaged  in  a  nefarious  traffic 
which  cannot  ultimately  profit  them. 


LETTER    XXI. 


VACATIONS. 


No  mihi  otium  quidcm  fuit  unquam  otiosum. — CICERO. 
Simul  et  jucunda  ot  idonea  vita). — ANON. 


MY  DEAR  SONS — I  know  of  few  things  more 
adapted  to  draw  a  distinct  and  visible  line  between  a 
wise  student  and  a  foolish  one,  than  the  occurrence  of 
a  vacation.  To  the  latter,  who  is  too  commonly  a 
mere  terrce  filius — who  has  no  love  to  knowledge — who 
only  consented  to  become  a  member  of  a  literary  in 
stitution  from  mere  boyish  vanity,  or  to  comply  with 
the  wishes  of  his  parents;  who  desires  to  enjoy  the 
name  of  a  student,  without  his  toil  or  his  attainments ; 
to  him  the  occurrence  of  a  vacation  is  the  most  wel 
come  of  all  events.  He  is  delighted  to  escape  from 
study.  He  is  no  less  gratified,  perhaps,  to  escape  from 
the  control  and  decorum  which  the  supervision  of  the 
faculty  imposes  upon  him,  and  rejoices  in  the  prospect 
of  being  able  to  give  himself  up,  for  five  or  six  weeks, 
to  every  kind  of  dissipation  that  his  heart  may  desire. 

Very  different  from  these  are  the  feelings  with 
which  a  wise  and  exemplary  student  contemplates  the 
approach  of  a  recess  from  study.  He  rejoices  in  it, 
indeed,  but  not  as  a  period  of  escape  from  painful  re 
straint,  for  he  feels  none : — not  as  a  season  of  relief 
(220) 


VACATIONS.  227 

from  study ;  for  he  loves  knowledge,  and  considers  it 
as  a  privilege  to  receive  it  from  the  hands  of  his 
regular  instructors.  He  looks  forward  to  such  an 
event,  however,  with  real  pleasure,  as  affording  him  an 
opportunity  to  see  his  friends,  and  to  gratify  filial  and 
fraternal  affection ;  to  promote  his  health  by  an  abund 
ance  of  wholesome  exercise ;  and  also  to  enjoy  the 
privilege  of  attending  to  some  branches  of  literary 
culture  which  his  prescribed  tasks  may  have  prevented 
him  from  enjoying.  For  these  reasons  he  looks  for 
ward  to  it  with  calm  and  rational  pleasure.  He  takes 
a  temporary  leave  of  the  walls  of  his  Alma  Mater 
with  the  decorum  and  dignity  of  a  gentleman,  who  re 
spects  her,  and  at  the  same  time  respects  himself.  In 
travelling  to  the  place  of  his  residence,  he  is  not  seen 
associating  with  the  noisy,  the  vulgar,  and  the  vile ; 
he  is  not  heard  uttering  the  language  of  profaneness 
and  brutality,  so  as  to  excite  the  wonder  of  every 
decent  beholder,  where  such  a  young  cub  could  have 
received  his  training. 

From  the  foregoing  statement  you  will  easily  per 
ceive  how  your  father  would  wish  you  to  meet  and  to 
spend  your  vacations.  You  will,  of  course,  anticipate 
them  with  pleasure.  And  you  will,  I  hope,  contem 
plate  them  very  much  as  every  wise  man  regards  re 
laxation  from  the  severer  duties  of  life,  as  means  of 
refreshment  and  strength,  and  of  preparation  for  re 
turning  to  those  duties  with  renewed  alacrity  and  plea 
sure.  The  idea  of  making  a  vacation  a  season  of 
mere  vacuity,  or  of  lawless  riot,  is  too  ignoble,  I  trust, 
to  be  entertained  for  a  moment  by  you.  You  will,  I 
hope,  look  forward  to  such  a  recess  as  a  season  of 
much  value,  which  ought  to  be  carefully  improved,  and 
always  rendered  subservient  to  some  valuable  acqui 
sition. 

We  are  told  of  the  celebrated  Sir  William  Jones, 
that  eminent  philologist,  and  master  of  juridical  and 
oriental  learning,  that,  in  his  youth,  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  paying  an  annual,  and  sometimes  a  more  frequent 


228  VACATIONS. 

visit,  of  several  weeks  to  London.  As  that  city  was 
his  native  place,  and  as  he  had,  of  course,  from  that 
circumstance,  and  from  the  respectability  of  his  cha 
racter,  a  large  circle  of  acquaintance  there,  and  was 
every  hour  surrounded  with  scenes  of  luxury  and  en 
tertainment,  it  might  have  been  expected  that  his  visits 
would  have  been  all  devoted  to  company  and  amuse 
ment.  But  this  amiable  and  highly  cultivated  youth 
was  of  "  another  spirit."  His  impression  of  the  value 
of  knowledge  and  of  time  was  too  deep  to  allow  him 
thus  to  employ  even  a  few  weeks  of  recess  from  pre 
scribed  study.  He  generally,  we  are  told,  made  each 
visit  to  the  city  subservient  to  the  acquisition  of  a  new 
language.  Why  may  not  you,  my  dear  sons,  assign  to 
every  vacation  which  occurs  in  your  college  course,  the 
execution  of  some  task  which  may  be  of  solid  use  to 
you  as  long  as  you  live  ?  For  example ;  when  a  re 
cess  of  five  or  six  weeks  occurs  in  the  spring,  suppose 
you  were  to  resolve  to  devote  the  vacant  hours  which 
occur  during  that  time  to  a  careful  and  thorough 
perusal  of  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  and  Paradise  Re 
gained  ;  and  for  that  purpose,  to  take  the  volumes  with 
you  wherever  you  went,  and  to  study  them  with  that 
closeness  of  attention  which  becomes  those  who  are  de 
sirous  of  being  familiar  with  works  of  which  it  is  dis 
graceful  to  any  English  scholar  to  be  ignorant.  In 
the  vacation  of  similar  extent  in  the  autumn,  you  may 
peruse  with  like  attention  and  profit,  the  eight  volumes 
of  the  Spectator,  in  the  pages  of  which  Addison,  Steele, 
and  others,  who  adorned  the  Augustan  age  of  English 
literature,  made  so  distinguished  a  figure.  In  the  va 
cation  of  the  following  spring,  let  your  leisure  hours 
be  employed  in  reading  with  attention,  some  of  the 
best  parts  of  Shakspeare's  dramas.  I  say  the  best 
parts ;  for  I  would  not  recommend  the  indiscriminate 
study  of  all  that  goes  under  the  name  of  that  great 
writer.  It  is  doubtful,  as  you  probably  know,  whether 
some  of  the  plays  bound  up  with  his  works,  are  really 
his ;  and  with  regard  to  some  others,  confidently  con- 


VACATIONS.  229 

sidered  as  genuine,  they  can  by  no  means  be  recom 
mended  as  likely  to  improve  either  the  literary  taste 
or  the  moral  sentiments  of  those  who  peruse  them. 
Let  your  special  attention  be  directed  to  his  Macbeth ; 
his  Richard  II. ;  his  Henry  IV.  ;  Henry  V.,  and 
Henry  VI. ;  his  Richard  III. ;  his  Henry  VIII. ;  his 
King  Lear ;  his  Romeo  and  Juliet ;  his  Hamlet ;  and 
his  Othello.  "With  these  I  would  advise  you  to 
stop ;  and  these,  if  read  as  they  ought  to  be,  will  be 
more  than  sufficient  to  occupy  the  disposable  hours  of 
one  vacation.  Let  the  next  season  of  a  similar  kind 
be  devoted  to  the  perusal  of  Pope's  works ;  the  next 
to  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets  ;  and  so,  in  succession, 
to  the  other  works  of  Johnson,  and  to  those  of  Thom 
son,  Goldsmith,  Cowper,  Beattie,  &c.,  as  opportunity 
may  present.  If  to  these  you  could  find  time  to  add 
Robertson's  History  of  Charles  V.,  Hume's  History  of 
England,  Hallam's  Middle  Ages,  and  the  same  writer's 
Constitutional  History  of  England,  you  would  find 
yourselves  greatly  profited  by  the  series.  How  much 
better  to  have  a  system  of  this  sort,  than  to  be  at  a 
loss,  as  many  are,  during  the  hours  of  vacation,  how 
to  kill  the  time ;  often  in  perfect  ennui,  or,  perhaps, 
running  over  the  columns  of  a  newspaper  of  last  year, 
or  of  an  old  almanac,  for  the  sake  of  guarding  against 
utter  vacuity  !  If  this  plan,  or  anything  like  it,  were 
faithfully  persevered  in,  every  student  in  college,  before 
his  regular  course  was  closed,  would  be  familiar  with 
the  best  masters  of  sentiment,  of  diction,  and  of 
knowledge  that  the  English  language  affords. 

But  perhaps  some  of  your  vacations  may  be  spent 
entirely  in  travelling.  Where  this  can  be  done,  it 
may  be  made  not  only  one  of  the  most  interesting,  but 
also  one  of  the  most  profitable  modes  of  spending  a 
few  weeks  of  recess  from  regular  study.  Even  then, 
you  may  take  some  classical  English  volumes  with 
you,  and  turn  the  perusal  of  them  to  excellent  account 
in  the  leisure  hours  which  occur  in  all  journeying. 
20 


230  VACATIONS. 

But  aside  from  the  opportunities  of  reading  which  sel 
dom  fail  to  occur  in  steamboats,  and  other  vehicles  of 
public  conveyance,  you  ought  to  remember,  that  even 
when  you  are  shut  out  from  these  avenues  to  know 
ledge,  there  are  others  open  to  you,  even  by  the  very 
circumstances  which  preclude  reading.  This  is  com 
monly  prevented  by  the  crowd  of  company  in  which 
we  are  placed.  But  is  there  nothing  to  be  gained  by 
a  vigilant  and  wise  use  of  this  very  company  as  a 
source  of  information  ? 

I  know,  indeed,  that  reckless  young  men,  intent  only 
on  animal  gratification,  are  apt  to  pass  from  place  to 
place,  when  they  are  travelling,  and  from  one  crowded 
public  vehicle  to  another,  without  an  effort,  or  even  a 
thought  of  adding  to  their  stock  of  knowledge.  Where 
as,  a  young  man  desirous  of  learning  something  from 
every  place  which  he  visits,  of  gleaning  instruction  from 
every  company  into  which  he  is  thrown,  will  be  ever 
on  the  watch  to  make  the  most  of  every  scene  through 
which  he  passes.  He  will  try  to  inform  himself,  even 
in  his  most  cursory  journey  ings,  of  the  history,  char 
acter,  and  peculiarities  of  the  canals,  railroads  and 
turnpikes  over  which  he  is  borne.  He  will  mark  and 
record  the  agricultural,  the  commercial  and  the  manu 
facturing  conditions  of  every  district  which  he  has  an 
opportunity  of  seeing.  He  will  note  well  all  the  in 
ternal  improvements,  the  literary,  moral,  and  religious 
state  of  every  neighbourhood;  the  numbers,  relative 
strength,  prospects,  and  wants  of  the  different  ecclesi 
astical  denominations,  and  particularly  any  institutions 
or  practices  which  may  be  worthy  of  imitation.  Such 
a  wise  youth,  in  travelling,  will  always,  of  course,  keep 
a  diary ;  and  if  his  observation  and  his  notes  be  such 
as  they  ought  to  be,  he  will  return  from  every  journey 
with  an  amount  of  new  information,  richer  and  more 
vividly  impressed  on  the  mind  than  he  could  possibly 
gain  from  books. 

Not  only  so ;  but  in  every  such  journey  an  atten 
tive  traveller,  who  is  on  the  watch  for  incidents  and 


VACATIONS.  231 

sources  of  improvement,  will,  of  course,  fall  in  with 
companions  in  travel,  from  whom  he  may  learn  much 
which  books  would  never  teach  him.  He  will,  proba 
bly,  seldom  enter  a  crowded  public  vehicle  without  meet 
ing  with  one  and  another  who  have  visited  remote  parts 
of  the  world,  and  from  whom  he  might  derive  infor 
mation,  imparted  with  all  the  impressiveness  which  the 
living  speaker,  and  the  animated  countenance  can  alone 
confer.  In  such  circumstances,  in  almost  every  jour 
ney,  a  young  traveller,  if  awake  to  the  opportunities  of 
instruction,  may  collect  an  amount  of  information  con 
cerning  foreign  countries — concerning  Rome  or  Athens, 
concerning  Palestine  and  Jerusalem,  concerning  Egypt, 
and  Cairo,  and  the  Pyramids,  &c. — for  which  he  would 
look  in  vain  in  any  printed  volume.  Why  is  it  that  so 
few  young  men,  who  have  life  before  them  ;  who  might 
be  benefited  as  well  as  adorned  by  such  information ; 
and  who  might  gather  up  by  handfuls  instructive  facts 
concerning  every  part  of  the  world,  are  so  little  awake 
to  the  value  of  the  privilege,  and  so  little  disposed  to 
avail  themselves  of  the  advantages  which  it  offers  ?  It 
is  evident  that  in  this  way  the  travels  of  others  may  be 
made  substantially  their  own. 

Thus  you  see,  my  dear  sons,  that  wherever  you  may 
spend  your  vacations — whether  at  home,  or  in  journey 
ing  ;  whether  among  friends  or  strangers,  it  will  be 
your  own  fault  if  you  do  not  make  them  truly  and 
richly  profitable.  Surely  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
reading  valuable  works  which  could  not  be  read  during 
term-time ;  or  to  visit  different  parts  of  the  country ; 
or  to  see  more  of  the  world ;  or  to  converse  with  dif 
ferent  classes  of  men — are  advantages  which  will  be 
lightly  esteemed  by  none,  who  have  minds  capable  of 
making  the  estimate. 

When,  therefore,  I  see  a  student  reckless  of  all  these 
advantages,  the  moment  a  vacation  begins,  trying  to 
escape  from  all  reading,  as  having  had  too  much  of  it 
in  term-time ;  flying  from  the  company  of  the  grave 


232  VACATIONS. 

and  the  wise,  from  whom  he  might  learn  much,  and 
frequenting  the  haunts  of  the  dissipated  and  disorderly ; 
everywhere  smoking,  drinking  and  racketing  with  the 
children  of  folly ;  when  I  see  this,  I  instinctively  re 
gard  such  a  young  man  as  "void  of  understanding;" 
lost  to  himself  and  his  friends ;  and  as  much  more 
likely  to  prove  a  disgrace  than  an  honour  to  the  place 
of-  his  education. 


LETTER  XXII. 

MISCELLANEOUS  THOUGHTS— CONCLUSION. 


Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter ;  fear  God, 
and  keep  his  commandments  ;  for  this  is  the  whole  duty  of 
man. — ECCLES.  xii.  13. 


MY  DEAR  SONS — I  have  now  touched  as  briefly, 
and  yet  as  pointedly  as  I  know  how,  on  the  leading 
topics  which  appear  to  me  to  be  peculiarly  interest 
ing  to  you  as  students  in  college.  I  would  fain  hope 
that  I  have  gained  your  assent  to  every  successive  re 
mark  as  I  went  along.  But  of  one  thing  I  am  confi 
dent,  that  you  will  give  me  credit  for  having  uttered 
my  sincere  and  unbiassed  convictions  in  all  that  I  have 
said.  You  cannot  suspect  me  of  a  sinister  design  in 
any  one  of  the  counsels  which  occupy  the  foregoing 
pages.  No,  my  sons,  I  have  no  desire  to  damp  the 
sanguine  joy,  or  cloud  the  smiling  sun  of  your  youth. 
I  would  not  take  from  you  a  single  rational  pleasure. 
On  the  contrary,  I  delight  to  see  you  happy ;  and  de 
sire,  by  all  the  means  in  my  power,  to  promote  your 
true  enjoyment  and  honour.  But  you  must  allow  me 
now,  in  rny  advanced  life,  when  I  have  seen  so  much 
of  the  illusions  of  the  world,  and  so  many  examples  of 
the  destruction  of  those  who  yielded  to  them,  to  coun 
sel  you,  not  in  the  style  of  youthful  flattery,  but  in  the 
language  of  "  truth  and  soberness."  I  have  not  at 
tempted  to  carry  a  point  with  you  by  overpainting,  or 
by  any  other  artifice.  If  you  have  a  real  disinterested 
friend  on  earth,  who  unfeignedly  wishes  to  promoto 
20*  (233) 


234  CONCLUSION. 

your  interests  in  both  worlds,  it  is  he  who  has  penned 
the  foregoing  letters.  And  in  publishing  them  for  the 
benefit  of  others,  I  have  endeavoured  to  put  myself,  in 
thought,  in  the  place  of  the  parents  and  guardians  of 
all  your  fellow  students,  and  to  speak  to  them  all  as 
my  own  beloved  children.  I  have  not  given  a  counsel 
or  an  injunction  but  what  I  conscientiously  believe,  if 
followed,  will  be  for  your  benefit,  as  a  candidate  for 
success  and  happiness  in  this  world,  as  well  as  an  im 
mortal  being.  Nay,  I  have  not  given  a  counsel  but 
what  I  am  verily  persuaded  your  own  judgment  will 
sanction,  twenty  years  hence,  if  you  should  live  so  long, 
and  which,  if  you  neglect  it,  will  be  matter  of  bitter 
self-reproach  to  you  to  the  end  of  life. 

I  have  been  young,  my  dear  sons,  and  now  am  old. 
I  have  been,  as  you  know,  a  member  of  a  college,  as 
you  now  are  ;  and,  of  course,  I  know  something  of  the 
habits,  the  follies,  the  prejudices,  the  snares  and  dan 
gers  with  which  you  are  surrounded.  Now,  when  I 
have  laid  open  my  whole  heart  to  you  concerning  these 
matters,  and  have  told  you,  with  all  the  conscientious 
ness  of  truth,  and  with  all  the  tenderness  of  parental 
affection,  how  these  things  appear  to  me  in  the  decline 
of  life,  and  in  view  of  my  final  account,  will  you  not 
listen  to  me  ? 

Perhaps,  in  the  fulness  of  your  filial  feelings,  you 
may  be  ready,  after  reading  what  has  been  written,  to 
say — "All  these  counsels  are  right ;  all  these  things 
will  we  do."  But,  rely  upon  it,  to  carry  this  resolu 
tion  into  effect  will  not  be  so  easy  as  you  imagine. 
The  rashness  of  inexperience;  the  impetuosity  of 
youthful  feeling ;  the  sudden  burst  of  passion ;  the 
folly  and  violence  of  companions  in  study — all — all 
endanger,  every  day,  the  overthrow  of  your  discre 
tion  ;  and  may,  in  an  unexpected  hour,  as  it  were, 
spring  a  mine  under  your  feet,  and  disconcert,  before 
you  are  aware,  all  those  plans  of  order  which  in  your 
calmer  moments  you  had  adopted,  and  determined  to 
follow.  Under  these  impressions,  allow  me  to  close 


CONCLUSION.  235 

this  letter,  and  this  whole  manual,  with  a  few  counsels, 
which  a  heart  most  anxious  for  your  welfare,  as  long 
as  it  shall  continue  to  beat,  will  not  cease  to  pray,  may 
be  deeply  impressed  upon  your  minds  :  and 

1.  Be  not  confident  of  your  own  power  to  do  all 
that  your  judgment  tells  you  is  right ;  all  that  you 
have  resolved  to  do,  in  conformity  with  the  foregoing 
letters.     Your  feelings   are  sometimes  strong,  and  in 
an   evil  hour,  may  overpower  your  judgment.     Your 
inclinations,  never   to  be   implicitly  trusted,  may  run 
counter  to  your  duty  and  get  the  victory ;  and  some 
plausible  fellow  student,  less  worthy  of  respect  than 
you  have  hitherto   thought  him,  may  set  a  trap  and 
ensnare  you,  before   you  are  aware,  and  may  involve 
you  in  a  difficulty  from  which  retreat  is  not  easy.     On 
all  these  accounts,  and  others  too  numerous  to  be  spe 
cified  in  detail,  be  not  confident  that  it  will  be  an  easy 
thing  to  adhere  to  your  resolutions,  and  to  perform  all 
the  duties  which   your  judgment  tells  you  ought  to  be 
performed,  by  wise  and  orderly  students. 

2.  If  you  feel  your  own  weakness,  and  the  power 
of   temptation    in  any   measure    as  you    ought,    you 
will  be  disposed  to  look  for  aid  from  above,  and  to 
pray  without  ceasing  for  the  guidance  and  strength 
which  you  need.     Whenever  any  exigency  arises  which 
requires  decision,  especially  if  it  involves  any  question 
of  difficulty,  be  not  in  haste  to   act.     Pause,  reflect, 
and  calculate  both  probable  and  possible  consequences. 
Ask  direction  from  your  father's  and  mother's  God. 
And  if  the  path  of  duty  be  still  doubtful,  take  that 
course  which  will  be  obviously  safe,  rather  than  that 
which  is  adapted  to  gratify  a  spirit  of  vanity  and  youth 
ful  display.     It  is  the  counsel  of  prudence,  as  well  as 
of  holy  scripture,  "  acknowledge  God  in  all  your  ways, 
and  he  will  direct  your  steps." 

I  should  feel,  my  dear  sons,  as  if  I  had  gained 
much,  if  I  could  find  you  deeply  impressed  with  a 
sense  of  your  danger  of  being  led  astray,  and  of  your 
constant  need  of  guidance  and  aid  from  above.  No- 


236  CONCLUSION. 

thing  loss,  you  may  rest  assured,  will  suffice  for  your 
protection.  We  may  speculate,  and  philosophize,  and 
prescribe  as  much  as  we  please  about  other  remedies 
for  the  corrupt  tendencies  and  temptations  of  the 
young j  but  they  will  all  be  vain.  "  The  strong  man 
armed"  can  never  be  overcome  and  cast  out,  but  by 
one  stronger  than  he.  We  may  tell  young  men,  every 
day  that  we  live,  of  the  wisdom  and  happiness  of  vir 
tue.  We  may  demonstrate  to  them  with  all  the  force 
of  reasoning,  and  with  all  the  power  of  eloquence,  that 
the  path  of  temperance,  of  diligence  in  study,  and  of 
undeviating  regularity  in  every  respect,  is  the  wisest 
course.  We  may  assure  them  that  it  is  as  much  their 
happiness  and  their  honour  as  it  is  their  duty,  to  be 
all  that  their  instructors  can  require  or  wish.  We 
may  tell  them  all  this ;  and  they  may  fully  believe  us. 
Nay,  they  know  that  it  is  so.  Their  judgments  and 
their  consciences  are  decisively  in  favour  of  it  all.  But, 
alas!  their  hearts  are  not  gained.  In  spite  of  all 
that  we  can  say,  when  passion  pleads ;  when  the  syren 
voice  of  pleasure  calls,  away  they  will  hasten  "  as  an 
ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter."'  The  admonitions  of  con 
science  are  either  not  heard  at  all,  or,  if  heard,  speedily 
silenced  by  the  overflowing  tide  of  youthful  feeling. 
Alas  !  how  many  young  men,  whose  sober  convictions, 
when  consulted,  are  strongly  on  the  side  of  what  is 
right,  have,  notwithstanding,  from  the  mere  influence 
of  appetite  and  passion,  or  the  impulse  of  still  more 
inflamed  and  infatuated  companions,  in  an  evil  hour, 
plunged  irretrievably  into  courses  which  have  de 
stroyed  them,  soul  and  body,  for  ever !  0  how  con 
stantly  and  importunately  ought  those  who  are  ex 
posed  to  such  temptations  and  perils,  to  implore  that 
guardianship  which  can  alone  guide  them  aright ! 

3.  Recollect  that  you  are  every  day  forming  habits 
and  establishing  a  character,  which  will  probably  fol 
low  you  through  lite.  The  great  difficulty  of  most 
students  is,  that  they  "  do  not  consider."  They  can 
not  be  persuaded  to  lay  to  heart  the  importance  of 


CONCLUSION.  237 

every  day  they  live,  and  of  every  opportunity  they 
enjoy.  They  have  but  one  life  to  live.  The  precious 
time  which  is  now  passing,  and  the  privileges  with 
which  they  are  now  favoured,  can  never  return.  0, 
if  young  men  could  be  induced  to  "  consider  their 
ways;"  to  "look  before  they  leap;"  to  reflect  seri 
ously  before  they  act ;  and  to  prize  as  they  ought  the 
price  now  put  into  their  hands  for  getting  wisdom ; 
how  many  of  their  false  steps  would  be  prevented ! 
How  many  of  those  deplorable  calamities  which  cloud 
their  course,  and  pain  the  hearts  of  parents,  would  be 
happily  averted ! 

•  4.  Think  how  easy  it  is,  in  the  outset,  to  avoid 
being  implicated  in  the  disorders  of  a  college,  com 
pared  with  what  it  is  in  the  progress  of  the  mischief. 
In  the  commencement  of  such  disorder,  one  simple 
rule,  like  a  perfect  panacea,  will  deliver  you  from  all 
embarrassment.  That  rule  is,  without  any  reference 
to  its  character  or  its  aim,  to  have  no  connection  with 
it;  to  decline  attending  its  meetings;  signing  its  pa 
pers,  or  concurring  in  its  applications.  By  abstaining, 
kindly  and  respectfully,  but  firmly,  from  all  participa 
tion  in  the  proposed  movement,  no  harm  can  be  done 
in  any  case :  whereas  in  allowing  yourselves  to  be  im 
plicated  in  a  movement  which  in  the  outset  may  appear 
perfectly  innocent,  you  may  be  unexpectedly  drawn  into 
a  vortex  of  disgrace  and  ruin.  What  was  only  in 
tended  to  be  a  piece  of  harmless  merriment,  or  a 
respectful  request,  has,  perhaps,  insensibly  grown  into 
a  combination  of  infatuated  rebels.  "Behold  how 
great  a  matter  a  little  fire  kindleth  !" 

Shall  we  never  have  done  with  scenes  of  insubordi 
nation  and  disorder  in  our  colleges  ?  Are  students  in. 
our  highest  literary  institutions  more  unreasonable  and 
perverse  than  other  young  men  ?  Are  they  less  ac 
cessible  to  ingenuous  sentiments ;  less  open  to  convic 
tion  from  the  plainest  reasoning  ;  less  desirous  of  hap 
piness  ;  less  capable  of  elevated  and  manly  feelings 
than  others  of  their  age  differently  situated  ?  It  can- 


238  CONCLUSION. 

not  be.  Surely  the  air  of  a  college  cannot,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  inebriate  all  who  breathe  it.  Surely  the 
walls  of  a  college  cannot  blind  and  stultify  all  who 
inhabit  them.  Surely  college  students,  the  moment 
they  become  such,  cannot  be  at  once  transformed  into 
such  miserable  cowards,  or  such  incorrigible  fools,  as, 
of  course,  like  a  flock  of  silly  sheep,  to  follow  in  the 
train  of  every  ruffian  blockhead  who  chooses  to  leap 
over  a  precipice,  and  destroy  himself.  Why,  then, 
does  it  so  often  happen,  that  those  young  men  who, 
under  the  parental  roof,  were  amiable,  ingenuous,  and 
docile ;  after  being  advanced  to  the  higher  privileges, 
and  more  enlarged  instruction  of  a  college,  are  so  apf 
to  become  blinded  by  passion,  the  sport  of  childish 
feeling,  and  more  disposed  than  before  to  "  call  evil 
good,  and  good  evil ;  to  put  darkness  for  light,  and 
light  for  darkness ;  to  put  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet 
for  bitter  ?"  Causa  latet,  vis  est  notissima.  And  yet, 
I  know  not  that  the  cause  is  really  hidden.  The  gre 
garious  principle,  which,  when  sanctified,  is  productive 
of  so  much  good,  may  become,  when  perverted,  a 
source  of  incalculable  evil.  Hence  it  so  often  happens 
that  associated  bodies,  in  the  fervour  of  their  feelings, 
and  in  the  madness  of  their  spasmodic  excitements, 
are  found  to  do  things  of  which  any  individual  of  their 
whole  number  would  be  utterly  ashamed. 

Can  you,  for  a  moment,  doubt,  my  beloved  sons, 
that  it  is  as  much  your  interest  as  it  is  your  duty,  to 
be  perfectly  exemplary  in  all  your  relations  to  the  col 
lege  of  which  you  are  members  ?  Can  you  doubt  that 
it  will  be  for  your  own  happiness  and  honour  to  obey 
every  law  of  the  institution ;  to  perform  all  your  pre 
scribed  tasks  with  diligence  and  faithfulness ;  and  to 
treat  every  one  both  within  and  without  its  walls  with 
the  urbanity  of  perfect  gentlemen  ?  I  am  sure  you 
cannot  and  do  not  doubt  concerning  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
all  this.  Why,  then,  0  why  are  these  principles  really 
and  faithfully  acted  upon  by  only  one  in  ten  or  twenty 
of  the  students  of  any  college  in  our  land  ?  I  could 


CONCLUSION.  239 

sit  down  and  weep  when  I  learn,  from  day  to  day, 
from  so  many  channels  of  public  intelligence,  and  from 
colleges  in  almost  every  quarter  of  our  country,  of 
masses  of  students  who  appear  as  if  their  constant  and 
supreme  study  was  how  they  might  most  effectually 
secure  their  own  disgrace  and  misery,  and  render  those 
around  them  also  as  miserable  as  possible. 

Cannot  young  gentlemen,  in  circumstances  so  con 
spicuous  and  responsible,  be  persuaded  to  appreciate 
their  own  interest?  Can  they  not  be  prevailed  upon, 
if  they  will  not  respect  others,  at  least  to  respect 
themselves ;  to  respect  public  opinion,  to  which  they 
look  for  high  honours,  and  on  which  they  rely  for  that 
brilliant  success  which,  as  a  matter  of  course,  they 
anticipate  for  themselves.  Above  all,  can  they  not 
be  persuaded  to  respect  that  high  and  holy  One,  whose 
favour  is  life,  and  whose  loving  kindness  is  better  than 
life  ?  If  they  consider  it  as  an  honourable  achievement 
to  deceive  and  overreach  the  faculty,  can  they  regard 
in  a  similar  light  that  conduct  which  degrades  them 
selves,  and  is  a  prelude  to  inevitable  shame  ?  Alas  ! 
for  the  infatuation  of  young  men  who  can  glory  in 
their  own  dishonour,  and  boast  of  intellectual  and 
moral  suicide  ! 

When  I  compare  what  young  men  might  gain  in 
college,  with  what  they  usually  do  gain,  the  contrast 
is  most  humiliating.  Instead  of  striving  to  enrich 
their  minds  with  every  kind  of  literary  and  scientific 
acquirement  adapted  to  prepare  them  for  an  elevated 
and  honourable  course  in  life ;  instead  of  labouring  to 
gather  knowledge  by  handfuls,  and  to  make  every  ses 
sion  a  source  of  intellectual  wealth ;  how  many  act  as 
if  their  object  were  to  gain  a  diploma  to  which  they 
had  no  title ;  to  cheat  themselves  and  their  parents  by 
clutching  a  mere  barren  parchment ! 

Here,  my  dear  sons,  I  must  take  my  leave  of  you, 
and  close  these  counsels.  And  yet  I  scarcely  know 
how  to  lay  aside  my  pen.  Not  that  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
anything  new,  or  more  weighty  than  has  been  already 


240  CONCLUSION. 


expressed,  to  say ;  but  because  I  scarcely  know  how 
to  tear  myself  away  from  the  chair  of  affection  ate, 
paternal  counsel,  or  cease  to  exhort  and  entreat,  when 
I  feel  that  so  much  may  depend  on  "  a  word  in  sea 
son"  to  those  whose  habits  and  character  are  forming. 
But  to  the  God  of  your  parents,  I  must  now  commit 
you.  May  he  be  your  protector  and  your  guide  ! 
This  shall  be  the  unceasing  prayer  of  your  affectionate 
friend  and  father, 

SAMUEL  MILLER. 

PRINCETON,  Febi-uary  1st,  1843. 


W7WSITY] 

•• 

IE  END. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed^  Renewals  only: 

Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


-OCT9 


.  *.  - 


8  0 


Due  end  of  FALL  Quarter  nprp  7 
subject  to  recall  after-    uo" 


6  1974  #  7 


.- 


LD2lA-40m-3,'72 
(Q11738lO)476-A-32 


General  I 
University  of  C 
Berkeley 


LD  21- 


6  O 


M 


